Ducks in a Row
by Q Illespont
Summary: Nothing threatens a happy home quite like the idea of peaceful children.
1. Chapter 1

DUCKS IN A ROW

Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 1

* * *

Darkwing Duck walked into the familiar office. He walked to what he'd started thinking of his chair, and looked across the desk at the office's occupant.

'Hello again, Principal Farnsworth,' he said. He hoped it was for an award ceremony for his daughter, but knew better. 'How's Gosalyn doing lately?'

'It's what I wanted to talk to you about,' the other duck said. She reached into her desk and withdrew a distressingly large file folder. 'I know Gosalyn's a good kid at heart, but she does tend to be very ... well ... ' She seemed to struggle for a word.

'Spirited?' Darkwing suggested. He tried to suppress a smile.

'Exactly,' Farnsworth said. 'Well, while I do admire a spirited girl, I'm getting more and more worried about it turning ... well, aggressive. We do encourage girls to be as active as boys if they want to, but Gosalyn seems to go further.'

'How so?'

Farnsworth sighed and reviewed her notes. 'She doesn't really hang around with any of the girls, outside of school sports. And then there's her performance while playing. Again, very aggressive for a young girl.'

Darkwing looked quickly over Farnsworth's papers. Most seemed to be related to what she was saying, even including notes on how Gosalyn consistently had the most penalty minutes in the hockey league, or tended to intimidate some of the other players when charging at them in soccer. 'She doesn't back down easily, I know,' he said. He caught a few letters on one more item, but it was covered by other papers.

'I know we talked about parenting techniques earlier,' the principal continued. 'However, certain situations might have an influence, like her home environment. Maybe I should have our counsellor visit your home sometime to see how things are there? He might be able to find some things you may have overlooked, Mr Mallard.'

Darkwing tried to hide his panic. While hardly illegal, he vastly preferred people not find some of the other things in his home--like his spare costume or the secret portal to Darkwing Tower. 'Maybe I can just get the little darling signed up for community service?' he tried.

'Don't worry, Mr Mallard. This isn't meant as an audit, just as a way to help you and Gosalyn,' the principal said. 'I'll have Dr Foxtail set up a good time to visit.'

'Um,' Darkwing stammered, 'yeah. Make sure he calls first.'

Farnsworth looked to him. 'Why's that?' she asked.

'Because ... um ... I work nights,' he replied. Mostly truthful, anyway. He added a yawn to emphasise the truth. 'I do my best, but I do need my rest.'

Farnsworth nodded, and wrote a quick line on her notes. 'I'll make sure he knows. Thank you for your time, Mr Mallard.'

'No problem,' Darkwing lied as he left.

--

Gosalyn smiled her sweetest, most innocent smile to her father as he climbed into the car. 'So, how'd it go?' she asked.

'Gos,' Darkwing sighed, 'they wanna send someone over to check us out.'

'Why?' she asked.

'A file in the principal's office as thick as Launchpad ring a bell?' he replied. 'I told you to be more careful in school.'

Gosalyn fumed, folding her arms angrily. 'It's the same everywhere, Dad! You said I should try creativity, anyway!'

'I didn't say what they were worried about, Gos.' Darkwing watched his daughter struggle to make up an excuse, then let her off the hook. 'It's your sports. They say you tend to be a little rough out there.'

'It's not my fault that guy's beak got in the way of my hockey stick!' Gosalyn protested. 'And body checks are perfectly legal, too!'

'Either way,' Darkwing said, 'they're sending the counsellor to the house. At least he'll call ahead, so until then we've got some cleaning to do, young lady.'

'A messy room is a normal part of childhood too, you know,' Gosalyn protested.

'Not that.'

--

The tall red fox reviewed his notebook. He'd been assigned to this part of Saint Canard for some time, and reviewed the checkpoints he would need to cover. Parent-child relation, environment, neighbours and their influence, and so on. He never did like having to call the subjects of a case; a lingering suspicion in his mind suggested that whitewash sales rose in local stores shortly after the call.

He walked up to the door and knocked. A few crashes were heard inside; he imagined ladders and mop buckets being hastily crammed into closets. A second knock brought a tall bird to the door. 'Uh, Mallard residence,' the man said.

'I'm Dr Jeff Foxtail. Are you Drake Mallard?' he asked.

The other man chuckled, adjusting the flight cap. 'Aw, no. I'm Launchpad McQuack! DW's a bit busy at the moment, but he said you'd be by. Come on in!'

Foxtail wrote a few notes. 'McQuack ... you're the guy that hangs around with the weirdo, isn't it?'

'What weirdo?' Launchpad asked as he guided the visitor to the living room. 'Anyway, go ahead and have a seat.'

'Thank you,' Dr Foxtail said, and walked to a comfortable-looking recliner against the far wall.

'NO!' Launchpad yelled, and ran over to stop the doctor. He tripped over the rug, crashed through the coffee table, rolled a few metres, and sprawled at the fox's feet. 'You can't sit there!'

'Why not?' Foxtail asked, staring at the downed pelican. He looked again at the chair in question, and idly traced a finger along a statuette on the table nearby.

'Because it's broken--something there's just not working right!' he heard in another voice. As Fostail turned, he saw a duck in the hallway; apparently he had been upstairs when he'd arrived. 'It's too dangerous to sit there.'

'Unsafe furniture?' Foxtail asked, marking his notebook.

Darkwing waved his hands to try to swat away any shadow of a doubt. 'Of course not!' he yelled. 'Nothing here would hurt that sweet delicate flower that is my daughter!'

Foxtail nodded. 'So you're Drake Mallard, then?' He helped Launchpad to his feet.

Darkwing bowed. 'Yes, that's me. Drake Mallard, devoted father and excellent guardian. And you are?'

'Dr Jeff Foxtail.' He shook Darkwing's hand. 'I called earlier, and Mr McQuack let me in. Is Gosalyn home, too?'

'Well, she's outside playing in good-natured fun,' Darkwing said, trying to force as much sugar into the statement as he could.

'Without parental supervision?'

Darkwing gulped. 'Um, you see, I ... '

Launchpad looked out the window. 'Ah, don't worry, DW. The Muddlefoots are watchin'. Just Gos and Honker and Tank goin' at it.'

Darkwing shudderred--he imagined the trial. 'Had you just abandoned her, we'd settle for life imprisonment. But you left her to THEM? It's the chair for you, Mallard!' the judge's voice echoed. He grabbed the counsellor's wrist and dragged him out of the house.

Outside, he panted. 'See? Perfectly safe playing while responsible adults watch over them.' He looked to Foxtail, who seemed intent on what was going on in front of him. Darkwing blinked, and turned to see, and gaped in shock.

In front of him, Binky Muddlefoot was puttering in her garden, and Honker was standing near her, looking across the yard at the other two ducklings. What had gotten Foxtail's attention was what Tank and Gosalyn were doing.

The two children were obviously furiously going at each other, leaving torn-up grass and mud in their wake. The trail of destruction started near a football, now lying unattended; the ducklings seemed more intent on preventing the other from advancing rather than claiming the ball, and as such had lost track of where the scrum had wandered to.

'GOSALYN! TANK! WILL YOU TWO STOP THAT!' Darkwing yelled, running over. Once the two heard his voice, they stopped--Tank in mid-knee to the gut, Gosalyin halfway through a headbutt. 'What do you two think you're doing?'

'Hustling for a loose ball?' Gosalyn sheepishly tried. Tank backed away as well.

'HOW many times have I told you two that fighting for a loose ball doesn't mean actual FIGHTING? Gosalyn, just because I let you take boxing lessons doesn't mean you get to punch the other players!'

'It's just Tank!' she protested.

'Hey, you threw the first elbow!' Tank replied. The two then decended into an argument over who did what, which soon escalated into shoving. Darkwing moved to get between the two when he winced at a high trilling voice.

'Tank, Gosalyn, wouldn't you two like some chocolate-chip cookies I baked?' Binky said as she approached the quarreling children. She offerred her plate to the mud-caked children, who sheepishly took a few from her, and with a glare at each other, walked back to their respective front doors.

Darkwing followed his daughter, making sure she took off her sneakers before tracking mud into the house. After he closed the door behind her, he heard a book snap shut. Turning, he looked to see Dr Foxtail putting his book away. 'I think I've seen enough here, Mr Mallard. I'll be on my way.'

'Wait!' Darkwing said as the doctor stepped into his car. 'I can explain! It's not what you think!'

Foxtail rolled down his window. 'I'm quite certain it is, Mr Mallard. Thank you for your time.' He drove away, leaving Darkwing on his knees watching the car recede into the distance.

--

Darkwing and Gosalyn sat in Principal Farnsworth's office that Saturday, both nervous. This time it wasn't detention on their minds, but the report in the principal's hands, as well as the counsellor standing nearby.

'Well,' the principal said, 'Dr Foxtail's report does shed some more light on the situation. I've also requested some other information, from before you'd adopted Gosalyn as well.'

'You got my orphanage records?' Gosalyn asked.

'Yes, Gosalyn. We needed to get a complete picture of not only your home life, but events that shaped you when you were younger.'

'And?' Darkwing asked. He held Gosalyn's hand tightly. Dr Foxtail looked at the scene, then to Darkwing's and Goslayn's eyes, but said nothing else.

Farnsworth shook the papers on her desk, straightening them out, and filed them in Gosalyn's folder. 'He found that there are some unusual aspects of your home life, including this Mr McQuack. He's concerned about him, and I do wonder why he's in your home. You do know about his kind, right?'

'What are you implying?' Darkwing yelled.

'I know, I know. It's not easy having a crimefighter's sidekick in the house, although we can at least assume that given this information, Darkwing Duck would keep a closer eye on your home. Not the most stable influence, but if nothing else, should events turn unfavourable, there is recourse; he has shown an interest in Gosalyn's well-being before. I think he has a soft spot for her, and as such helps add a layer of security.

'Then there's the matter of her contacts with organised crime,' she continued. 'Again, based on what we've researched, typically someone with a childhood as ... eventful as Gosalyn's would fall into a life of crime herself, but it seems that you and Mr McQuack are keeping her in line.'

Darkwing smiled pridefully. 'Yep, yep yep.' Gosalyn looked relieved as well.

'Dr Foxtail also described what he found in the house itself, aside from you and Mr McQuack. Apparently there's some dangerous items around, including a chair unsafe for seating, and a destroyed coffee table.'

'The table was destroyed during my visit, actually,' Foxtail clarified.

'Oh, right. And then there was the fight between Gosalyn and a neighbour's child.'

'I can explain!' 'It wasn't my fault!' 'I meant to be watching!' 'It was just good clean fun!' Both Mallards fired line after line in defence.

'Please, please, settle down!' Principal Farnsworth asked. Darkwing and Gosalyn receded into their seats, their nightmares of separation briefly replaced by the ancient fear of detention. 'Now, Mr Mallard, Gosalyn ... it seems that in the judgement of Dr Foxtail, your home situation is satisfactory.'

Gosalyn flushed red with anger. 'What? Satisfactory? I'll--' Any further protest was silenced as Darkwing held her beak shut.

'You've done a pretty good job, Mr Mallard,' Dr Foxtail added. 'While Gosalyn is rather rough around the edges, we don't see her being a real hazard. Personally, it seems much of her behaviour is from her unstable earlier life and a desire to impose control and stability. Odd as it may sound, your home is helping provide that stability. Continue your good work, Mr Mallard.'

Gosalyn by now had started paying more attention to what was said; she'd already been on a hair trigger, and almost anything would've set her off. Once comprehension dawned, she pushed her father's hands away and smiled. 'Keen gear,' she said. 'I've got a normal stable family!'

'We wouldn't go that far, Gosalyn,' Farnsworth retorted. 'Still, I think we're done here for today. Thank you for your time.'

'You'rewelcomehaveanicedayseeya!' Gosalyn said, now dragging her father out of the office; Farnsworth and Foxtail were sure that if she missed the door, she would've knocked the wall down in her relieved rush.

--

Darkwing dug his heels in as they passed a bank of lockers. 'Calm down, Gosalyn!' he said. 'The authorities said everything was fine! We're gonna go get dinner from Hamburger Hippo, then hit the barn.'

'Think we can just eat at home tonight, Dad?' Gosalyn asked. Darkwing was sure that she gave the word 'Home' a slight emphasis.

'Sure, slugger,' he said. 'If you do the dishes afterward.'

'Deal' she said, dragging him on. Darkwing chuckled; she was intent on getting back. And he got a night off of dishwashing duty too.

As she pulled him out the main entrance, he saw Herb Muddlefoot standing around, admiring the announcement board and some of the art projects posted nearby. He winced at the idea of meeting Herb here, and remembered to let off on his resistance; Gosalyn's rush to get home would be a fitting excuse to avoid contact.

It didn't help as Herb grabbed him in a neighbourly hug. 'Well, hi there, Drakeroonie!' Herb yelled, causing Darkwing to wince. He was caught by an unthinkable object and pulled by an irresistable force. 'What brings you here?'

'Just a chat with the principal, Herb,' he managed. 'You?'

'Same thing. They wanted to talk about helping my kid out too. Something about his grades, I think. I don't remember.'

'No surprise,' Darkwing said. He wriggled, and noticed that even with the added load, Gosalyn had still dragged the pile out of the building. He made a few more calculated shifts, learned long ago, allowed for the pull on his arm, and was soon flying out of Herb's arms.

In fact, he and Gosalyn landed in a heap some distance away. They got up and shook off, Gosalyn looking sheepishly back to him. 'Sorry, Dad,' she said.

'It's OK, Gos,' he answered, and called back to Herb. 'We'll talk later!' Much later, he thought to himself, and got in his car. Herb waved back to them; Darkwing had turned up the radio to drown out any other comment or promise from his neighbour.

'Swell guy,' Herb said, watching Darkwing and Gosalyn leave.

Standing outside, he couldn't see the lights flicker inside. And the scream was from deep in the basement, and thus had no chance to reach him had he stayed inside.


	2. Chapter 2

DUCKS IN A ROW

Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 2

* * *

The following Monday, Gosalyn stretched out after she finished her lunch. Everything seemed to be going normally; she'd managed a decent grade on her math test earlier, and while she wasn't looking forward to history, she'd heard rumours from some other kids that instead of a boring lecture, there'd be a historic film. Not ideal, but it'd do, and better than having to go over the Great Depression.

She caught up with Honker at his locker on her way back to the classroom. When he turned to her, he seemed cheerful. 'Hey, Honker,' she said, 'looking forward to movie and snooze time in history?'

'What?' he replied, looking puzzled for a moment before recovering. 'Oh, right, that. It'll be interesting to see a period piece, but that's not what I'm thinking of.'

'What is it, then?' she asked as they walked on.

'You wouldn't believe it,' he said smugly. 'Come on, you'll see after class.'

She followed as Honker rushed on to class. When they entered, the other kids were mostly lounging around, with a few studying and one or two subtly (or unsubtly) preparing to catch up on sleep lost to WhiffleBoy last night. Gosalyn and Honker had seats near each other, and waited until the film started before conversing again. 'Did your book on Russian war literature finally arrive?'

'Even better,' Honker whispered.

Gosalyn fidgeted, and tried to distract herself from speculation by the movie, a documentary on the 1932 election campaign. By the end, she noticed that she'd ended up sketching FDR piloting a giant robot and kicking the Hitlertron in the groin while Winston Churchill's Varitech Spitfire, built in Tokyo after Japan's revolution overthrowing the military rulers, had liberated Siberia from the traitorous Stalin. 'Wonder if this'd be a good cartoon series,' she thought to herself as she packed her things up for the day.

She looked back to Honker, following him out the door. He still seemed upbeat, and smiled to her. 'Here it comes,' he said.

'What? Did your dad get a new car?' It was Herb's turn to drive the kids home this week.

'Better. Dad had to come here Saturday for some parent meeting. Didn't you see him when you were here?'

She remembered telling him about the visit, but nothing much after it. 'Don't remember, no.' She didn't want to admit, especially out in public, just what was on her mind; it might ruin her tough-girl image.

Honker opened his mouth to explain, before stopping and pointing. 'Well, here comes the results.' He pointed behind her, and Gosalyn turned to check.

They saw Honker's older brother Tank descending. Apparently he'd had his hair tied back in something of a neater style, but that wasn't the only thing Gosalyn saw that was different. Instead of his hostile leer, he seemed almost sheepish, trying to make sure he didn't accidentally bump any of the other kids around him, although his usual reputation as one of the tougher kids in the school (but not really in her league) helped with that. Still, other kids were noticing his neater appearance, and how he came straight to Honker, who was watching smugly. 'Creepy,' she mutterred to him; she was expecting him to be plotting something.

'Good afternoon, Honker,' Tank said as he got to them. 'And good afternoon, Gosalyn,' as he saw her there. 'Are you well, brother?'

Honker snickered. 'We're allright. Care to help us with out books, though?'

'I would be delighted,' Tank managed, and extended his arms. Honker tossed his books in his brother's arms. 'Miss Mallard,' Tank asked, 'may I help you with your books? I need to be a more helpful brother to Honker and his friends.'

Warning lights were going off in Gosalyn's mind, but she figured she might as well test things out. 'Sure, haul these.' She threw her bookback to him; Tank caught it easily. OK, she thought to herself, that at least was Tank-like; he was able to catch the flung backpack. 'How long's he been like this, Honker?'

'Since Dad brought him back from school Saturday. It's been great!'

'Don't you think something's going on here?' she asked as they waited for Herb to arrive. 'This isn't really like him.'

Tank leaned in as he heard that. 'I know I have behaved very inappropriately in the past, but I know that I must do better as a brother and as a neighbour,' he answered. 'In fact, is there anything I can do to help you later, Gosalyn?'

She thought to herself. 'Well ... you can spring for the pizza after football practice,' she offerred.

Tank looked troubled. 'Will you need help while practicing?' he asked. 'It could be dangerous.'

Gosalyn snickered; he sounded like her own father when she tried out at first. 'You're the one who didn't want to be an offensive lineman!' she pointed out. 'Changing your mind?'

'Well,' Tank started, 'I'm not sure ... '

Before he could finish, Herb pulled up. 'Come on, kids!' he yelled. 'Flight Five on Muddlefoot Airlines departing for Avian Way in three minutes!'

The three climbed in; Gosalyn looked oddly as Tank held the door open for herself and Honker. Tank finally got in and closed the door, and Herb announced, 'Ready for takeoff!' before speeding away for home.

--

Darkwing made his way downstairs that evening, and greeted Gosalyn as she sprang into the house. 'Hey, kiddo,' he said as he caught her enthusiastic leap, 'How'd school go?'

'It went great, Dad!' she said.

'And that math test?' he snuck in while setting her down. 'Your allowance depends on this, you know.'

She dug a sneaker into the carpet as she waited, then fished out the paper and showed it off. 'C plus!'

'Well,' Darkwing said critically, 'you could have done better, you know. Especially here.'

'Hey, I passed, didn't I?'

'True, but you need to make sure you don't make mistakes like this. Since when has dividing by zero been allowed, anyway?'

'It was a trick quesiton,' Gosalyn protested. 'Now, how about that allowance?'

'Well, I could divide it by zero,' Darkwing offerred, smiling.

'Dad!'

'Allright, here you go.' He handed her some cash. 'So, how much of that's going to Godpigeon Pizza tonight?'

'None of it,' Gosalyn chuckled. 'Tank's volunteered to pay for it all!' She looked to her father's puzzled reaction, and smiled. 'I thought the same thing, but Honker's said Tank's been acting nice lately. Even more than the other Tank we met.'

'Strange,' Darkwing admitted. 'Still, be careful out there.'

'Don't worry, Dad,' Gosalyn said as she grabbed her practice bag. 'I can handle him, nice guy or not.' She gave him a hug before running out the door.

Darkwing thought on the matter, and kept an eye out to watch the neighbours; he normally tried to avoid contact at all costs, but this was an interesting change in their kid. He saw Tank coming out after Honker, and saw how oddly he was acting. Bowing, dressing carefully, making sure to treat Gosalyn more ... deferentially.

That was the word he was looking for. Nothing like he used to be; even Honker tended to show more backbone than what Tank was doing now.

'Hey, DW,' Launchpad said, startling Darkwing up into the blinds he was peering around. 'What's going on out there?'

'Nothing, LP,' he answered as he untangled himself. 'Absolutely nothing.'

'Must be interesting nothing, then. You looked kind'a thoughtful there. Say, isn't that the Muddlefoots' yard?'

'It is, yeah. Gos was talking about Tank.'

'So was Binkie,' Launchpad answered. 'We were talkin' over the hedges, and she was talkin' about how nice Tank's been. Even more so than usual.'

Darkwing frowned. 'Must be just our imagination, then, if Binkie's seeing it. Come on, we've got a patrol tonight.'

--

'Allright, kids, let's get set for a scrimmage. Everyone got their pads on?' Coach Northpaw smiled as he looked over the children in his charge, each ready. He also winced slightly as he looked at number four, Gosalyn Mallard. He was still old-fashioned onough to be concerned about a girl on the team, although she did turn out to be one of the better players, even compared to some of the older kids. 'Right, red squad, you're on defence. White squad, offence. Ball's on White squad's 30, first and ten. Let's move it, boys!'

Gosalyn sighed to herself as she headed out; she'd bristled slightly, but overall, it wasn't that big a deal, and it did discourage folks from trying to make something of her being a girl. Then again, two of the other teams were fielding girls, too. She was more annoyed over being on red squad this time, although laying out a ball carrier had its benefits.

The rest of the squad huddled around her. 'OK, guys,' she said, 'we'll use the nickel and dime blitz up the middle with the linebackers dropping into a middle zone, got it?'

The other kids just stared at her blankly, and she sighed. 'How about the guys up front and the guys close to the front run at the ball carrier, and you four guys cover the ones who catch all the time?' They seemed to understand that better, and broke to take up their formation.

White squad had figured out their offence as well, and lined up. The linesmen glared at each other, ready to go. The quarterback started his snap count. 'Green, 40 ... green, 40 ... hut, HUT!' Tank, the centre, hiked it to him right on cue.

The quarterback dropped back a few yards, letting his linemen form the pocket around him as they deflected the defenders around him, leaving Tank watching forward, straight at the oncoming Gosalyn. He rose to block, and then yelled ... and then stepped aside, shirking back.

Gosalyn, fully expecting a titanic collision on her way to the quarterback, stumbled slightly as she met not resistance, and crashed gracelessly into the equally stunned dog with the ball. The other kids stopped as the coach blew his whistle to end the play. 'MUDDLEFOOT!' he yelled, 'What kind of block was that?!'

Tank fidgeted. 'But she ... I can't ... ' He looked around at the other kids' scornful glares.

'Let's try it the other way, then. White, you're defending. Red, you got the ball.' The kids huddled up again, with Gosalyn pensive.

'Say, Gos,' one of her linemen asked, 'you think Tank's falling for you? I saw you and him after school today.'

The other players snickered while Gosalyn fumed. 'No, we're NOT,' she said. 'Here, I'll show you. Where's he lining up?'

'Looks like Coach is putting him in the secondary,' her quarterback said.

'Allright,' she answered, 'how about you let me run it up the middle?'

The quarterback checked around, and nodded; Gosalyn was generally good for a few good yards on the ground. They broke, and snapped the ball into play. After a pump fake, the quarterback handed off to Gosalyn.

She jinked to her right, sending one of the defenders straight into a blocker. Another quick set of moves, and two linebackers had brought each other down in a heap. She turned, hit an opening, and broke into the open field. White squad players started yelling 'Get her!' as she sped on towards midfield.

Only two defenders were even close to her, and one was Tank. She figured she'd try to gauge his reaction, and ran towards his side of the field. There was no blocker over there, but she was still sure she could fake him out of his pads.

Once again, he screamed and dove toward the sidelines; she ran on to the end zone. Rather than celebrate, she looked back at where Tank had landed, amidst her teammates. She could hear the yelling even downfield, but it grew more distinct as she returned to the scene. 'You idiot!' 'What were you thinking?' 'What, were you scared?'

The coach had by then gotten to Tank, too. 'Muddlefoot, that's twice I've seen you do that today. What's going on?'

'Yeah, what gives?' Gosalyn added. 'Scared I might hurt you?'

'I'm not supposed to hit a girl!' he yelled, backing away from the squad. 'It's not right!'

Coach Northpaw sighed. 'Muddlefoot, that's a good rule to follow, but if the girl in question's suited up like you on the field, she's a valid target! You were one on one against Mallard, and you fled. What do you think'll happen when you end up against McWeasel from Duckburg? Slippery kid, and even girlier than Mallard. And don't think I haven't seen you slacking off even before this scrimmage, too. You've been playing so gingerly I'm about to swap your brother in!'

'But I--'

'No "buts", Muddlefoot,' the coach sighed. 'You're off the team for your own good. Hit the showers. The rest of you, form up! Wind sprints!'

Tank shirked back to the lockers as the other kids lined up for sprints.

--

Launchpad looked around the rooftop. 'What're we doing up here again, DW?' he asked.

The Midnight Mallard mulled over the ... musing, he added. 'Like I said earlier,' he answered, 'Tuskernini is due out on parole today. I'm here to make sure that he stays on the straight and narrow.'

'The police report said that he's been in some sort of new rehab program,' Launchpad said. 'Been a model prisoner since.'

Darkwing frowned. 'He's done that before, LP. Keep your eyes peeled.'

'Wouldn't that hurt?'

Darkwing sighed and resumed his watch over the prison gates. 'Twelve step programs, parole, halfway houses, ha! The recedivism rate is really ridiculous, and only the firm hand of justice will keep these guys straight.'

'What about Morgana?' Launchpad asked.

'Same hand. There's something to be said about technique.'

They continued their stakeout until the gates opened, discharging Tuskernini himself onto the pavement. 'Where's his gang?' Darkwing asked. Indeed, the master thief was alone. In fact, as Darkwing noticed, he was also wearing a plain suit, and holding a plain suitcase. Even his moustache had been trimmed. 'Something's up here.'

'Us?'

'No, Launchpad. Look at him. It looks like he's just stepped out of an office building instead of maximum security. Clean shoes, clean suit, clean clean clean.'

'Maybe he shared a cell with Ammonia Pine,' Launchpad guessed. Darkwing sighed again, and resumed his observations.

They followed Tuskernini as he rode a city bus to what looked like a nondescript apartment highrise. He stepped out, and looked around himself almost fearfully, prompting Darkwing to pull Launchpad behind a rooftop air conditioning unit. 'I don't think he noticed us,' Darkwing said, and peered again around the edge.

Tuskernini hadn't moved, although his attention was on a group of teenagers across the block, where a pawn shop stood. The teens seemed more interested in their own discussions; none were watching him. Tuskernini, however, shivered in fear and backed slowly into the building. 'Very unusual,' Darkwing observed. 'Perhaps I need to keep a closer eye on this situation.'

An alarm rang across the city; jewelry store, Darkwing was sure. 'Later, though. We've got more pressing business!' They jumped down into the Ratcatcher and rode off.

In a window above, Tuskernini risked a glance through the window, pale as the sheets on his bed, watching Darkwing race off. He then sagged to the floor, clutching a teddy bear, and tried to calm himself. 'He's not here for me, he's not going to get me,' he kept repeating to himself.

* * *

And here's chapter 2; this is taking a while, tho hopefully it's worth it. By the way, for those who wonder: I subscribe to the theory that Clark Kent puts on a 'Superman' costume to fight crime, whereas Batman puts on a 'Bruce Wayne' costume when he's not fighting crime; the same, I think, goes for Darkwing: he wears a 'Drake Mallard' costume when he's not flapping in the night.


	3. Chapter 3

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners

Chapter 3

* * *

Thursday evening, Gosalyn and Honker relaxed on his bed. Honker had his chemistry book in his lap; Gosalyn was twirling hers on a finger when she wasn't using it to bat crumpled paper balls into his wastebasket. Most of those were riddled with errors, anyway; she was still struggling with electron orbits, or shells, or orbitals, or whatever. Why can't they just stand still?

'Tell me again how ions are supposed to work,' she sighed to her friend.

'It's simple, Gosalyn. Electron structures have instabilities, since 8 is the ideal number for an element's valence electrons. If they're really close, they can capture an electron from some other atoms, like sodium.' Honker tried to illustrate with a quick sketch on graph paper. 'Like in table salt. Chlorine has 7, and sodium has 1, so chlorine takes sodium's electron, and both are fine.'

'What's sodium get outta it?' she asked.

'It's left with 8 electrons in its outer shell, so it's stable.'

'But doesn't it lose stuff in the deal?' Gosalyn asked.

'It's an ion, it doesn't have feelings,' Honker reminded her. 'Besides, it's a lot more stable that way.'

'Allright, so why do they end up called ions?'

'Ions are charged atoms,' Honker said, then coughed. 'I need something to drink,' he said.

Shortly afterward, Tank ran into the room, carrying a tray with two glasses of lemonade. 'Here you go!' he said, offering the drinks to the two. Gosalyn took hers warily, and she noticed Honker's enthusiasm over his brother's new demeanor had waned as well. 'Is there anything else I can do for you two?' Tank asked.

Honker answered, 'No, Tank. Thanks.'

Tank nodded, and ran out of the room. 'Honk,' Gosalyn asked, 'has he been acting like this when I'm not around?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Some of the guys on the football team thought he had a crush on me. And he wouldn't block me, or even try to tackle me during practice. Coach Northpaw even kicked him off the team for it. And I've been getting weird looks at school when he's around me.'

Honker sipped his drink and thought. 'I hadn't thought of that,' he said. 'It was fun for a while, but it is getting really weird.' He took out his notebook and read through it, occasionally tapping his bill with his pencil. 'Gimme a few days to watch him, OK?'

'Need help?'

'It'd work better if you're not there,' Honker said. 'And I can handle him.'

'Lemme know if you need help, OK?' Gosalyn said as she hopped off the bed.

'Sure,' Honker answered as she let herself out the window to land in the yard. He pulled out another notebook, a fresh one, and started writing new notes about his older brother.

--

At home, Gosalyn saw her father sleeping on the sofa again. And in costume, again. And with something burning in the kitchen yet again. 'Oh, Da-ad,' she sang out, 'could you wake up before THE HOUSE BURNS TO THE GROUND?'

Darkwing jumped up, sniffed the air, and ran to the kitchen. 'There's nothing wrong, sweetie! I'm just making Cajun-style ... um ... meatloaf!'

Gosalyn snickered to herself as she sat at the table, watchnig the smoke pour from the oven. 'Just like you made Cajun-style eggs this morning?' she threw back.

'Ha ha, how funny,' Darkwing replied, and sat a plate of what looked like coal in front of her. He had one of his own, and bit into it. And spat it out quickly. 'How's pizza sound, Gos?'

'Already had some this afternoon,' she said. 'Tank bought again.'

'Tank's paying a lot of attention to you lately, isn't he?'

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. 'Not you too! Everyone at school and everyone on the team thinks he's trying to date me. Ugh.' She shook he rhead. 'Not a chance.'

'Maybe he's noticing what a kind, sweet, innocent, and tender ... ' Darkwing and Gosalyn looked at each other as he paused. Then they both broke out in laughter. 'Seriously, Gos,' Darkwing said as he caught his breath, 'he might just like you.'

'He's been doing the same thing with Honker lately, too. It's just weird.'

'I always figured he was overdue for some serious therapy. Maybe he finally got it.' Darkwing grabbed a glass of water, and washed the rest of the ash from his mouth. 'In any case, it's nothing but improvement, isn't it? No more petty bullying, no more crude pranks.'

Gosalyn frowned as she thought it over. There seemed to be something else missing, too. 'I dunno,' she said. 'It just feels wrong, you know?'

Darkwing ruffled her hair. 'Don't worry, kiddo. Now clean up the table while I order some takeout.'

--

The following Monday, Gosalyn and Honker met back in his house. 'What'cha got for me?' she asked.

'The data's very disturbing,' Honker said. 'There's a marked decrease in almost every type of unique behaviour, aside from fear.'

'Unique to him?'

'No, unique at all. Aggression's down 95, confidence down 73, forcefulness down 98. He's barely able to sustain anything even close to assertive, and he's so eager to please I tried asking him for his allowance over the week.' He held out a handful of cash. 'As you can see, he complied.'

Gosalyn wiped her brow in relief. 'Glad it's not love.'

'It's almost like all his personality's gone,' Honker said. 'Or that it's been pushed so far back that he can't show it.'

Gosalyn thought again, this time about some of the similarities between herself and Tank; her classmates were more than happy to provide her a list, although they called it 'Miley's Love Compatibility List', after the girl who came up with it. Both did have aggressive streaks, were pretty physical in things, and had tendencies towards letting might make right when pushed. Or when pushing. 'You said your folks took him to a therapist, right?'

'Yeah, a couple weeks ago. This started about then.'

'I'd better talk to him before he completely ruins my rep,' Gosalyn grumbled.

--

Darkwing sighed as he rode back after another stakeout. 'Nothing. A complete nothing. I would've had a better chance spotting crime on the street outside than watching him!' he grumbled. 'Almost two weeks, and the footage I have on him would put an accountant to sleep!'

'Well, you did nab that speeder three days ago.'

'I know. A moment of action in an otherwise wasted stakeout. Wasted weeks of worthlessness. A fortnight of futility! Half a month of half-hearted halfway home housesitting. If I watch him fill out another SuDuckU puzzle, I'll probably mug a pedestrian just so I can arrest myself.'

He then slowed down as traffic thickened in front of him. 'Great. I want to get home and everyone slows to a crawl. THE SIGN MEANS MILES, NOT KILOMETRES!'

The other cars on the road kept their pace. 'Orderly,' Launchpad mentioned. 'Almost like formation flyin'.'

'What do YOU know about formation flying?' Darkwing dangled.

'Plenty! I even wrote a book on it!' Launchpad replied. 'It's called "The Top Five Hundred Mistakes a Pilot Can Make When Flying in Formation".'

'What's the first?'

'Leaving your turn signal on.'

Darkwing chuckled to himself, then leaned on the Ratcatcher's horn. 'Hey, move it! Crimefighter coming through!'

Amazingly, a few cars responded. 'Well, what do you know,' Darkwing said, and made his way forward. He looked to one of the cars that had pulled over. 'Say,' he said, 'didn't I arrest you three days ago for speeding?' he asked the driver.

'Y-y-y-yes, Mr Darkwing, sir,' the man said. 'Please don't kill me!'

'Think you overdid it when you arrested him?' Launchpad asked.

'You were there, LP. All I did was appear out of the smoke, announce myself, and drag him to the police station for booking.'

'Yeah, about that. Isn't his car a bit different, too?'

Darkwing looked again. He remembered the driver had a Ferotteri, low and red. Now, he was driving something that he'd decline to use for his Drake disguise for being too mundane. 'Probably confiscated it. Why couldn't they have let me keep it?' he said.

Before Launchpad could answer, Darkwing saw a space. He roared to his left, tricking another driver who was angling for it, then with a squeal of tyres dove into the hole and raced back to the bridge tower.

--

Wednesday at lunchtime, Gosalyn stood in line for whatever slop was coming from the kitchens. She'd tried going through the lunch line lately to avoid Tank and his homemade goodies. She'd had enough of the speculation when he'd bring it up to her, and hoped that either being full or being sick to her stomach would get him to leave her alone for a while.

She sat down at a table, and looked around the lunchroom. The usual cliques had formed up; hers started gathering as the other guys came to her. And at the door ... no, not again.

'Gosalyn!' Tank yelled over as he ran to them. 'Are you allright? I cannot find my younger brother; do you know where he is?'

The other kids near her snickered as she fumed. 'NO, Tank, I don't. Now get lost!'

Tank whimpered, and that made Gosalyn grind her teeth more. 'No more simpering, please,' she whispered.

'I ... I'm sorry, Gosalyn ... what did I do wrong?' Tank wailed, and she was sure that he was on the verge of tears.

'Gosalyn Mallard, love 'em and leave 'em,' a squirrel near her said, and chuckled.

'Allright, THAT'S IT!' she yelled, and stormed over to Tank, grabbing him by his vest. 'What is wrong with you? Don't you have a backbone anymore? Stop whimpering and stop crying and stop trying to pamper me!'

Tank brought his arms up, but even then it llooked more like he was trying to shrink back than defend himself. 'I'm only trying to help! That's all I'm supposed to do!'

Gosalyn's eyes almost flashed as she brought her left arm back. 'Well, then, you can help me practice my boxing!' she yelled, and let loose a hard left cross.

Tank spun away, through a table. He got up carefully, staring in shock at her. 'What did I do wrong?' he asked. 'I'm sorry!'

Gosalyn screamed, and dove at him, fists swinging. 'STOP BEING A PANSY!'

The other kids kept clear until the teachers were able to reach into the cloud and pull the two apart. Tank had huddled back, crying; Gosalyn struggled to get out of the grip. 'Let me go!'

Principal Farnsworth walked in, and gasped in shock as she saw the wreckage and the wailing Tank. 'Gosalyn Mallard! I never thought you'd do something like this! Report to my office immediately!'

Gosalyn looked at her, and shrank. 'Yes, Principal,' she said, and shot a dirty look at Tank.

--

In the office, the principal looked sternly at Gosalyn. 'Picking a fight with that nice boy,' she started, 'is the last straw. You've always been very close with your behaviour, and I thought you were showing signs of improvement, but this can't go on.'

'That's no boy,' Gosalyn countered. 'That's a Little Lost Kitten in a duck suit! It's even worse!'

'Gosalyn, quiet! You've given us no choice but to reccommend you for social therapy.'

'What's that, another thing that quack of a doctor came up with?'

Principal Farnsworth shook her head. 'No; in fact, in light of this we will have to review Dr Foxtail's other observations. This is a new technique, from a consultant we'd found a few months back. You've seen their work.'

'Where?'

'They helped Tankard Muddlefoot become a more well-adjusted boy, for one And they're also working with local law enforcement to aid criminals in rehabilitation. So far, those they have treated have caused no problems, no crimes, nothing.'

Farnsworth signed a paper. 'I'll be sending this to your father, so he knows you'll be late coming back home today. Go with the hall monitor now.'

Gosalyn started to protest ... then thought. Tank had been sent there ... and now he was like this. 'No!' she yelled, and ran out of the room, right into a burly hall monitor. He caught her, and looked to the principal.

Farnsworth sighed. 'Please take Gosalyn to the therapy centre,' she ordered. The monitor nodded, dragging the protesting Gosalyn away.

--

That evening, Darkwing pulled up to the school. His fingers had gripped the wheel tightly the whole time in anger, ready to start seriously grounding his daughter once he'd picked her up.

Outside, Principal Farnsworth met him. 'I'm sorry we have to meet like this again, Mr Mallard,' she said. 'Before we can start the process, we do need to conduct one last session; it's to find out just what is making her so maladjusted.'

'Right,' he said through gritted teeth, and followed her into the basement of the school. They walked into what looked like an ordinary classroom, converted into a makeshift interview room. Gosalyn was already seated, hooked to a polygraph, and Darkwing came in to let her know his thoughts. 'Just what do you think you were doing, young lady?' he yelled.

Gosalyn didn't answer; Darkwing tried again. 'I'm talking to you, missy!' Still nothing; Gosalyn's stare didn't even move from the far wall. 'WILL YOU LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M YELLING AT YOU!' he screamed, and netted the same results.

Farnsworth came and took his arm. 'She's under the effects of hypnosis, Mr Mallard. She can't respond to you right now. Over here, please.'

Darkwing gulped as he heard that. 'Why?' he asked as he was guided to a bench.

'She was even more violent as we brought her in. This was the only way we could get her to stay still, and we need honest answers from her anyway.'

Darkwing fidgeted again; some answers she had would be at best heavily damaging to his ability to hide as Drake Mallard. 'Why didn't you ask my permission before?'

'It was an emergency. Ah, here comes the new therapist we hired.'

Darkwing looked at the door, and a tall dog walked in. Well, he looked somewhat canid anyway; some people did seem indistinct in that regard. He was dressed in professional therapists' clothes, anyway. 'So,' he said, 'are you Miss Mallard's father?'

'Yes,' he sourly replied. 'And I'll sue if anything happens to her like this.'

'Relax, Mr Mallard,' he answered. 'My name is Kevin, and we're here only for her benefit.'

'Right,' he replied. He mentally started filling out the brief to submit to his attorney as he watched Kevin walk to his daughter.

'Gosalyn,' Ord said, 'I need to ask a few questions about your home life, OK?'

'Yes,' she answered; Darkwing gripped the side of the bench as he heard how hollow she sounded.

'Does your father ever hit you?' Ord asked. 'And if so, what for?'

'Yes,' she answered. 'It's "boxing practice", or "quack fu practice".'

Farnsworth turned to look at Darkwing, and he could feel the iciness. 'It's self-defence courses?' he offerred.

Kevin shook his head. 'What's the worst thing he's ever threatened you with, Gosalyn?' he asked her.

Gosalyn answered in the same monotone. 'Firing squad.'

He shook his head again and wrote down a few lines on his clipboard. 'And did you end up in front of one?'

'Yes.'

'That wasn't me!' Darkwing yelled.

'Has he ever drawn a gun on you, Gosalyn?' Ord asked. 'We need to know, just in case.'

'Yes.'

Darkwing gaped; while some of these sounded taken out of context, he knew he'd never actually drawn on her.

'Why did he do that?'

Another hollow answer. 'He said I never cleaned my room, never got good grades, and never did the dishes.'

'Our notes say you're adopted,' Kevin continued. 'Have you ever worried about that, and losing your home?'

'Yes.'

'When was the last time this came up?'

'Two weeks ago.'

'Why did it come up?'

'I was in trouble again.'

The therapist shook his head. 'I think I have enough information here.' He looked coldly at Darkwing, who was shrinking back on his bench. 'I think you might want to get a lawyer, Mr Mallard.'

--

The judge rapped her gavel. 'In regards to the people vs Drake Mallard,' the judge started, 'this court finds you to be an unfit father, and abusive. The grand jury will weigh evidence to see if criminal charges need to be filed against you. As of today, Gosalyn Waddlemeyer is removed from your custody, to be placed with a foster home as soon as possible.'

'You can't do this!' Darkwing yelled. Launchpad put a hand on his shoulder to try to comfort him; he shook it off. 'Let me talk to her, please!'

'I cannot. In fact, you are hereby ordered to not approach any closer than 1,000 feet of her location. And that applies to Launchpad McQuack as well. And Darkwing Duck.'

Darkwing gaped. 'Wha?' he managed, trying to figure out how they figured him out there.

'Launchpad and Darkwing are accomplices in their nightly patrols. We can't have Darkwing bringing him in that radius. Now get out of my court.'

Darkwing felt the scorn of the court observers as he left.


	4. Chapter 4

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners

Chapter 4

* * *

Darkwing paced in his home, almost wearing a groove in the carpet. 'I've got to get her back,' he muttered, rubbing his chin. 'How to get them to see what's going on, though. And how they got her to say I drew on her. That's out of bounds and she knows it!'

'Maybe she confused you with Negaduck?' Launchpad offerred. 'From what the two 'a you say, it's still the same duck, just from the Negaverse.'

'No, that's not it. She doesn't see him as me, or she would've mentioned all the things he'd done to her.' Darkwing sighed, thankful for small blessings. 'Still, it's like they spun everything the worst way.'

'There's a good way to spin a firing squad?' Launchpad asked.

'It wasn't mine. I remember once when Quackerjack abducted her and Honker. He had her ready for execution.' He glared at the statuette on the end table as he remembered. 'But they didn't ask who did it.'

A quiet knock echoed from upstairs, and Darkwing gasped as he pinpointed it. 'That's Gosalyn's window!' he yelled, and raced up the steps. He flung the door open and leaped over the discarded toys to the window, where he saw ...

A tree tapping the window. He sighed, and looked across. From here, he could see Honker's room; he thought to himself about what to say about this arrangement in a few years, when Gosalyn started developing certain things. He then caught Binkie's eye; she seemed to be straightening out Honker's bedroom. She looked to him, and he winced and fell back while she slammed the blinds shut.

Launchpad stared as Darkwing descended the staircase. 'What was it?'

'A tree. And the most vicious glare I've ever seen from Binkie,' he answered.

'Must explain why Herb hasn't spoken to me all day,' Launchpad mused. 'In fact, he actually told me to never come to his cookouts again, and if he saw me even near Honker, he'd call the cops and you.'

'Great. Even the Muddlefoots hate us.' Darkwing sighed, and went to his home office. The computer there was still connected to his criminal databases, and out of morbid curiousity he checked the Drake Mallard file. 'Wonderful. Here's the full file on what Gos told them. My perfectly ordinary relationship with Morgana? Devil worshiping and occultism. Working for SHUSH? Out all night and for several days at a time like parental abandonment! Saving her all those times? Lots of glowing reviews for the hero, but they rake me over the hot coals for it! Even the time I tried to pound out some of Gizmoduck's dents turned into an ambush and bitter jealousy!'

'Aren't you usually jealous of Gizmoduck's PR?' Launchpad asked as he read the file.

'That's not the point! And then there's stuff here about you and me. Unfit family, threat to traditional marriage, the list goes on! And we're not even like that! Er, not that there's anything wrong, but they're painting it like we're ... ugh. I've busted folks for doing half the stuff they think you and I do with her.'

'Good thing they like you when you're in costume,' Launchpad said. 'Guess I just weigh you down at this point.'

Darkwing thought about that, and smiled. 'That's it, Launchpad! They still don't know I'm really Darkwing Duck; the restraining order only cites the fact that you're my sidekick! I can at least visit her as Darkwing Duck!'

'All you gotta do is leave me behind! Allright!' Launchpad stood for a high-five. 'Great idea!'

Darkwing readied to join him, but paused. 'Wait. That means leaving you behind, LP.'

'Aw, don't worry, DW. I know you've always preferred to go solo.'

Darkwing thought. True, when he first met Launchpad, he was adamant about being a solo vigilante, but now thinking of leaving his devoted sidekick behind rankled him, almost as much as having had Gosalyn torn away from his home. 'You sure you're gonna be allright with this, LP?'

'Someone's gotta keep the place clean for when you bring Gos back.'

'Allright. You have to maintain the cover here of Drake Mallard living here, or at least lying low. No-one's gonna be surprised, at least.' He ran to the recliner, waited, then sighed. He'd forgotten that he can't wait up for Launchpad this time. 'I'm on my way to the courthouse.'

--

Darkwing winced as he stared at the judge. 'You're presiding over this hearing?' he asked. 'Shouldn't you be busy bench-pressing the prison?' he mutterred under his breath.

'That's right,' he gruffly barked. 'It's a judicial exchange program. While I'm handling this, someone from traffic is handling the Adopt-A-Con program and taking care of the criminal court. Now, state your case.'

'Very well,' he said, flourishing his cape. 'I hereby submit that it is a grievous error for the court to prohibit me from going within one thousand feet of the current Gosalyn Mallard residence.'

'We've got it listed as Waddlemeyer, not Mallard.'

'Have they finished the legal process yet, hm?'

The judge looked through his papers. 'That's scheduled for three weeks from now.'

'Mallard it is, then,' he said smugly. 'Anyway, as you can see here, I am not always accompanied by Launchpad McQuack. Therefore, if I leave him out of my patrols, I should be safely able to enter within the protected portion of the precious progeny's ... er, playground.'

'True, but I've never liked you. Why didn't you bust Mallard sooner, anyway?'

'He's a tricky one,' Darkwing replied. 'I wasn't able to see the signs. Anyway, just lift the restraining order and let's be on our way dispensing justice.'

'Not so fast!' The judge rapped his gavel and added, 'How do I know YOUR presence is a good idea? I don't like your methods, Darkwing Duck.'

'Easily explained, Your Honour. Allow me to call in my expert witness.'

'Proceed.'

Darkwing smiled; he'd prepared for just this, and he dashed to the courtroom's doors to throw them open. 'Calling Megavolt to the stand!'

The observers gasped as the supervillain walked in. He was lacking his trademark battery, and wearing manacles and leg irons, but still caused parts of the gallery to back away as he walked to the stand. 'This counts towards my sentence, right?'

'Yes,' Darkwing answered. 'Now, please state your name and occupation for the court.'

'OK ... um, I'm Megavolt, and I'm a supervillain.'

Darkwing nodded. 'Please state your qualifications to testify on criminal behaviour.'

'Can I take the 5th instead?' Megavolt asked.

'Just the convictions, then.'

'OK. Well, there's murder, arson, theft, kidnapping, larceny, vandalism, conspiracy, extortion, signal interference, wire fraud, wire theft, wire kidnapping, more theft, and line dancing.'

'Line dancing isn't a crime,' the judge noted.

'Hey! The power company had me arrested for dancing on their power lines!' Megavolt replied.

The judge paused, then shook his head. 'Credentials established. Proceed, Darkwing.'

'Very well.' Darkwing produces an easel with a map of Saint Canard, with various areas shaded purple, matching his coat and cape. 'Megavolt, I want you to tell the court where you would base your criminal hideout, assuming the purple regions of this map represent areas I am known to frequent.'

Megavolt looked over the map, and pointed to a white area near an electronics store. 'There.'

Darkwing nodded, and took that map away. A second was under it, showing a different set of purple and white areas. 'And on this map?'

'Right there.' Megavolt found an area close to a purple edge, but at a microchip manufacturer.

Darkwing smiled, and threw the second map aside, showing the third. Instead of a random pattern, the entire city was painted purple, save for a circle in a middle-class neighbourhood. 'And on this map?' He smiled.

Megavolt quickly tapped his finger on the Saint Canard Power Company. 'Right here.' Two miles from the white oasis.

Darkwing gaped. 'Are you SUURE about that, Megsy? That's right where I'd be.'

'I know,' Megavolt answered. 'You think I'd want to be there, in that white bit?'

'It's where I wouldn't be,' Darkwing pleaded. 'No terror that flaps in the night, prime criminal territory.'

'I know! Can you imagine who'd end up in there? Negaduck, Liquidator, FOWL agents, spies, terrorists, muggers, child killers ... it's safer to be as far from there as possible!'

Darkwing blinked, and smiled. 'Thank you for your testimony, Megavolt.'

'No problem. Mind helping me out next time Quackerjack leaves his toys in my cell and blames me for it?'

'I'll see.'

The judge banged his gavel again. 'Get to the point, Darkwing!'

After Megavolt was led away, Darkwing faced the judge while holding his map. 'The point is that this area is the 1,000-foot radius surrounding Gosalyn Mallard's foster home. And apparently, if that's the one area of the city I'm not allowed in, it'll turn into such a breeding ground of crime that Saint Canard's third most dangerous villain doesn't dare step foot in it!' He then set it back on the easel and picked lint from his cape. 'Might also bring the property values down, too.'

'Allright, allright,' the judge said. 'Restraining order's lifted for you. But if I see you even NEAR Launchpad McQuack, you're going back in prison!'

--

Darkwing sighed as the Ratcatcher roared through the city, and couldn't help but glance at the empty sidecar next to him. He'd installed it at first as a place to keep felons he'd caught, but for he didn't know how long it'd instead been taken by his well-meaning if ill-flying sidekick. And on the times it wasn't, his daughter was riding along. Missing both Launchpad and Gosalyn felt like a knife through the heart, followed by an axe.

He looked at his navigation computer. A blip flashed, showing his destination: Gosalyn's new foster home. He'd initially gotten the address from breaking into the child welfare agency's databanks, to put on his maps; the judge hadn't questioned it, but then again he could've put the circle anywhere and the story would be the same. Still, he had to put in an appearance, to check on his daughter.

He pulled up to the house, a rather ordinary dwelling. It wouldn't have been out of place on Avian Way, although it looked a little neater than even the Muddlefoots'. He dismounted, weighing a gas grenade in his hand, then shook his head and put it away. A flashy entrance wouldn't do what he needed.

He walked up to the door and knocked. The intercom next to it asked 'Who's there?' in a polite feminine tone.

'I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the next door neighbours that play heavy metal music at 4 AM. I am Darkwing Duck,' he said.

He heard a gasp on the intercom, and frowned. OK, so he used one of his wittier intro lines in a deadpan manner, but still they should have heard of him, right?

After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a duck in what looked like casual lounging attire. 'I'm Bob Smith. Can I help you?' he asked, eyeing the crimefighter carefully.

'I'm here to check up on Gosalyn,' he replied. 'How's she adjusting?'

The other man paused, but found his voice. 'She's ... she's doing allright. She's adjusting perfectly,' he answered. 'Why do you ask?'

'I helped set her up with her father. I'm very interested in making sure she's out of danger.' Entirely true, yet nothing there showing he was really Drake Mallard.

'She's ... helping Alice out in the kitchen.'

'May I see her?' Darkwing asked; at the other duck's nod, he walked in, and let himself be led to the kitchen.

Inside, he saw a taller woman hunched over the sink, washing dishes before setting them in a dishwasher. At Darkwing's puzzled glance, the other man replied, 'She prefers doing things the old-fashioned way. We try to be traditional here.'

Darkwing winced. How could Gosalyn handle this kind of home? 'She's not in here,' he said aloud.

'Right ... Gosalyn? Come here to the kitchen!'

'I'm coming, Mr Smith,' a familiar voice called out; Darkwing wiggled a finger in his ear. 'Is she sick?' he asked.

'No,' Bob answered.

'I'm sorry,' the girly voice said again. 'I fainted when I answered the intercom, Mr Smith. I'm sorry for doing that.'

'It's OK, dear ... um, come in and meet ... um ... Darkwing Duck.'

Darkwing heard a dish drop and shatter behind him, followed by Alice's whimpered apologies. Even Bob seemed terrified of him, too, he noted. However, both thoughts were dashed out of his mind when he saw Gosalyn appearing around the bend.

If nothing else, she looked more like a doll than her Negaverse opposite. He could at first only see the edge of her skirt, but eventually Gosalyn showed herself, still clinging to the doorframe as if ready to duck behind it again. She was wearing a frilly white dress with a pink heart on the frnot, with adorable white shoes and matching white ribbons in her meticulously set hair. She reminded him of something from a 50s sitcom. 'H ... hello, Mr Darkwing, sir,' she stutterred. 'Are you going to hurt me?'

'No, no, no!' he said, waving his hands in front of him. Gosalyn cringed, and he felt a chainsaw start up to join the dagger and axe in his soul. 'I just wanted to make sure everything was nice and safe.'

'It ... it is,' she eked out, looking at the floor in front of her feet. 'Mr Smith and Mrs Smith let me stay here as long as I'm a good little girl.'

More like a parody of good little girls, Darkwing thought, and flipped a switch inside his cloak as he brought his arms back down. A subtle whirr on his belly confirmed that the hidden camera in one of the buttons on his coat had turned on; he'd installed it for this meeting. 'So are you keeping up on football practice?' he asked.

Gosalyn squealed almost fearfully and did pull behind the wall. 'Mr Smith and Mrs Smith say that foot ... football's too ... too dangerous for a little girl like me,' she said to the floor.

Darkwing looked between the two adults. Alice was meekly sweeping up dish debris and tried to avoid his gaze. So did Bob, although Darkwing finally pressed the issue by grabbing his shirt and holding him up to his eye level. 'And is there anything wrong there?'

'It's not right for little girls to do things like that,' Bob answered, still trying to look away. 'Girls are supposed to grow up and marry a nice boy from Duckburg, just like Alice married me!'

Darkwing filed that under 'highly objectionable'. 'So what do you do now after school?' he asked, ignoring a whimper from Bob.

'Please don't hurt Mr Smith,' Gosalyn begged. 'I'll be better, I promise!'

Darkwing sighed and set Bob down. 'Why are you feeding this stuff to her?' he asked pointedly.

'It's how things are supposed to be, sir!' Bob yelled. 'Just like me and Alice! I'm supposed to go out and work in an office, and Alice is supposed to be at home tending to the kids and the housework! Everything here's normal!'

Darkwing glared around the house. Gosalyn and Alice seemed terrified almost to tears. 'I'll keep that in mind,' he said. Still, even though the whole house sounded warning klaxons, he didn't have enough evidence yet to try anything. 'I'll check back in every so often, just to make sure she's not in danger,' he said. He adjusted his hat, wrapped his cloak around himself, and made his exit as his blue smoke rose around him.

* * *

And I finally get this part up. Still working on weaving the wafting w..um, threads of plot.


	5. Chapter 5

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 5

* * *

Darkwing scowled as he reviewed the footage and his memories of the interview with Bob Smith. He'd returned to the tower replaying the whole thing in his mind, and now had the video for his eyes. Everything about that house screamed abnormality; he could imagine the Fearsome Five taking notes. Bob must've had Alice already cowed, while Gosalyn had to have the misfortune of ending up under their roof.

He paused the replay on a shot showing Gosalyn and Bob. Gosalyn the whole time hadn't looked any higher than his knees, and was acting so meek that Binkie seemed like a fiery feminist in comparison. Alice was no better. He glared at Bob, and then paused again. There was something there, he was sure. Something about Bob Smith was wrong ...

His ear caught a sob wafting up from the bridge below. He tried to put it out of his mind, let it fade as he focussed on this threat to his daughter, but his superhero's conscience tugged at him to at least check the situation. He angrily grabbed a set of binoculars from a stand and looked around, searching for the source of the sobbing.

Below, he saw a tall red fox, and instantly flung the binoculars aside. Foxtail! He didn't even wait for anything else; he dove out the window, plummetting to the span below.

Standing there indeed was Doctor Jeff Foxtail, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling over the bay below. He yelped, jumping back to his feet as Darkwing pounded into the pavement, then sprang back up. 'Darkwing Duck!' he yelled.

'The same,' he growled.

'You can't stop me,' Foxtail said. 'I'm jumping, no matter what!'

'I ought'a throw you off for what you did to Gosalyn Mallard,' Darkwing said, approaching with vengeance in his eyes.

'I missed all the signs! I thought it was all a happy family! I suggested to the school board that she was going to grow up perfectly fine! What went wrong?'

'What went wrong was ... wait.' Darkwing stopped as he heard the wail. 'Tell me that again.'

'I reported everything was OK for her,' he said. 'That the Mallard home was probably the best place she could've ended up! And now this! My reputation is ruined, and for leaving a kid like that there, this is the only honourable way!' He turned to look over the bridge again.

Darkwing thought quickly to himself. 'I think you need a blindfold first,' he said, and whipped one of his spare masks backwards over the fox's eyes. 'Bon voyage,' he said ... and grabbed the doctor in one arm. He fired a grappling line back to the tower with his other hand, and hauled them both up to his lair.

--

Honker sighed as he stared at the ceiling in his room. He missed Gosalyn at school; right now he was sure they'd be doing something likely troublesome, but still fun. He knew full well how spirited Gosalyn could be, but still liked getting out and doing stuff. He could tell both from his parents' changed attitudes towards their neighbour and a few trips through the local paper's website that she'd been taken from her home; her foster home was in a different part of the city, so she was also transferred to another school, making it worse.

He'd known her since the unconventional family had moved in, and fretted about what could've happenned. He remembered the talk about what happenned during the conference the day Tank went in, but Gosalyn had said that went well, hadn't she?

Honker was so lost in thought that he never noticed the hum of the vacuum until the bed toppled over and dumped him onto the floor. He groaned as he tried to get out from under the bed, until it was pulled away by his brother. 'Honker, are you allright?' Tank asked.

Honker sighed again. 'I'm fine, Tank,' he allowed as he dusted himself off.

Tank sighed in relief, then bent over to start picking up the things that fell off the bed. 'I'm so sorry that I interrupted your studies, brother,' he said, and then looked at the papers. 'What ... what's this?'

Honker looked, and gasped. Tank had picked up the research that he'd been doing on him! 'Um--I--that is--I--' he stammerred, before reasserting himself. 'Just give them to me!'

Tank shudderred at the angry tone and handed them over while retreating. 'Yes, sir!' he squealed before grabbing his cleaner and running out.

Honker sighed. 'That was close,' he mutterred, and looked at his notes. Would Darkwing really care about this with what else he's putting up with? Maybe not, but it wouldn't be the first time divergent clues made a picture clearer. He stuffed the notebook into his backpack and headed downstairs.

--

Foxtail gaped as Darkwing pulled the blindfold off, looking around. His medical training did not prepare him in any way to behold a crimefighter's secret headquarters, and Darkwing couldn't help but gloat. 'A little place I like to call "home",' he said as he tossed his hat aside, letting it land neatly on its hook.

'Are you sure you're not ... um, obsessed?' Foxtail asked as he looked around at the souvenirs, gadgets, gizmos, and assorted items. 'I could reccommend a few colleagues, you know.'

'I am PERFECTLY ALLRIGHT!' Darkwing yelled, then composed himself. 'This is normal for a superhero.'

'Did someone say "superhero"?' a voice sang out from behind him. Darkwing winced as he heard it, and covered his face with his hands, knowing what was next.

A roar of a motorcycle engine and a blast of fanfare heralded the entry of someone he loathed at times more than FOWL's High Command: Gizmoduck, resident hero of Duckburg and still with more fans in HIS city than he had! 'I was referring to ME, since this is MY city,' he growled out the side of his beak.

'I would've thought you'd be packing your bags, then,' Gizmoduck said as he rolled to Darkwing. 'It's turning into the kind of city you wouldn't stay around in.'

'And just WHY is that, Gizmodork? Er, -duck,' Darkwing sneered.

'For one, the crime rate's almost as low as your approval rating. The public seems primarily scared of even stepping out of a line, let alone stepping out of line.'

Darkwing grumbled and stormed to his computer, bringing up information. 'I've been busy with other things.'

'Like the Drake and Gosalyn Mallard case?' Gizmoduck asked.

'Yes, so get out.'

Foxtail looked sheepishly to the armoured duck. 'He's always taken a personal interest in the daughter. He even had his sidekick living in the home. I don't know what went wrong there!'

'Say, where is the little Gizmobuddy anyway? I haven't seen her around yet.'

Darkwing spun around in his chair, ran to Gizmoduck, grabbed him by his visor, and yanked him down to eye level. 'Look, Uncle Unicycle, I'm busy investigating the situation. You know, criminology and crimefighting by careful clue collating, precision prowling, and fine finessing of facts until the big picture develops. Why don't you go out and issue some parking tickets?'

'Don't mind me, just admiring the scenery,' Gizmoduck said. Darkwing grumbled and returned to his monitors, scowling.

--

Honker walked out his front door, and saw his parents in the yard. Herb was cleaning his grill while Binkie was watering her flowers, humming pleasantly. He waved to them as he headed towards the Mallard house, cutting across the yards.

'Honker, dear, where are you going?' Binkie asked as she looked over at him.

'I'm going to see Gosalyn,' he answered reflexively. Usually his parents would just acknowledge that, and maybe let him know when lunch/dinner/bedtime was, but this time he gulped as he saw the cheer drain from both of them.

His father walked over. 'Son, I think we need to have a talk about Drake Mallard.' He put a comforting arm around Honker's shoulder as he led his son back to the house. 'Things aren't right over there.'

'That's right, dear,' Binkie added.

'But I ... I ... I need to get some of my stuff back from her,' Honker lied. 'She's got my WhiffleBoy strategy guide.'

Binkie frowned, and Herb sighed. 'We really gotta talk.'

Honker looked around for something to save him, when the grill exploded, pouring smoke all over the yard and sending all three Muddlefoots into a coughing fit. He heard his father calling out, and a few words from his mother asking about whether this was propane or coal smoke. He crawled out from the cloud and yelled, 'I'd better get to the bookstore then to get another copy!'

'Be back by seven!' Herb yelled out. 'Make that eight,' he added.

Honker sighed and ran over, letting himself into the Mallard house; he'd been trusted with a key to help watch the house in case it was empty for some reason.

He then looked in the house, and sighed. Even when its three occupants were gone, it felt like a home that was lived in, but the air within seemed tense and stale, all at once. He was sure there were cobwebs on the game console, and the stairway had a distinct lack of scuffing from being improvised as a ski slope.

'Launchpad?' he whispered, not daring to speak louder even while in the house, in case his voice escaped back to his parents. 'Mr Mallard?'

He crept around, checking the lower floor, and found the house empty. He sighed, and headed up the steps to the top floor where the bedrooms were, and saw smoke coming out from Darkwing's room. 'Smoke?' he asked, and went to the door, using his backpack strap to protect his hand as he turned the knob and opened the door.

Smoke billowed out as he did, and as he coughed again, he noticed how similar it was to the smoke that had come from the grill. He waved his arms to fan away the smoke. 'Who's in here?' he said into the smoke.

Eventually, with the door opened, it dissipated, revealing a charred Launchpad. 'Hey, Honk-man!' he said. 'Glad you could make it!'

'What happenned in here?'

'Well,' Launchpad answered, 'I saw you were on your way here when Herb got a hold of you, so I arranged a little "accident" with his grill.' He wiped some soot from his clothes and added, 'As you can see, it took a few tries.' He then held out a grenade; not one of Darkwing's usual smoke bombs, either. 'Hope you're not upset, but it's the only thing I could think of. Why'd you need to get here, anyway?'

'I wanted to ask Mr Mallard about Gosalyn and something she asked me for,' Honker said as he wiped his glasses. 'Where are they?'

Launchpad sighed as he led Honker back downstairs, making sure the blinds were still drawn. 'Gos was taken by the cops. She's in a foster home. I'm not allowed within a thousand feet of her,' he said, drooping as he related the story again. 'DW got the same thing, too. Think he convinced the judge that he's not really her dad.'

'Is he coming back here?'

'Doubt it. I'm watching the house and making sure no-one questions what DW's ... I mean, "Drake Mallard"'s doing.' Honker couldn't suppress a chuckle as Launchpad even made fingerquotes for Darkwing's civilian name. 'Also making sure to not be seen with him, cuz that's how Darkwing got the restraining order put on him in the first place.'

'How about the tower?'

'He should be there, yeah. Need directions?'

'No,' Honker said as he headed for the spinning chairs. He gulped as he looked at the statuette, still amazed at how it all worked, then hit the head of the figurine, and spun away.

--

When Honker arrived in the tower, he found Gizmoduck, Darkwing, and the doctor staring at the monitor. On it was what he thought was a bizarre image: Gosalyn was dressed up prettily and looking down at her shoes like a shy little girl. He thought about it for a few moments before remembering his real reason for arriving, and went to the crimefighters.

'Mr Darkwing, sir?' he asked, 'I'm worried about--'

'I know,' Darkwing said. 'You should know what I've been focussing on here.'

'It's about Tank, actually,' Honker said. 'I've been watching him, and--'

'Tank?' Darkwing asked. He turned around and scowled at Honker. 'Did he get taken out of your home, too?'

'No, but Gosalyn asked me to watch him before she left!' Honker held out his notes like a shield.

Foxtail thought for a few moments. 'Tank ... would that be Tankard Muddlefoot?'

'Yeah, that's my brother,' Honker replied. 'He said he met someone after I saw you with Gosalyn.'

'Let me see those notes, son,' Foxtail asked. Honker handed them over. 'I do remember suggesting he could use some counselling, after what I saw him doing that day. Hadn't seen him since, though.' He leafed through the papers, looking over Honker's observations while continuing his chatter. 'I'd heard about a new treatment, and how it had showed promise, but never had a chance to follow up on this case ... oh my.'

'What is it?' Honker asked.

'Darkwing, sir? You should look this over. I think it's a clue.'

Darkwing paused his dismissive sneer at the hint. 'Allright,' he said, and took the papers Foxtail held out. 'Looks like Tank's become the ultimate dweeb. Wait ... even worse. He's become the guy the ultimate dweeb would kick sand at.'

'Highly abnormal behaviour, and highly unhealthy too,' Foxtail added. 'And very similar to Gosalyn Mallard, from what I saw. As well as Alice and Bob.'

'What's so wrong with ensuring good behaviour while young?' Gizmoduck asked. 'Aside from reducing our workloads, that is.'

Foxtail turned to Gizmoduck and answered, 'There's too much of a good thing, sir. And this isn't normal respect for elders and rules. This is syncophantic terror.'

'Like Alice and Bob,' Darkwing noted. 'Of course ... I never noticed Bob there. He's just like how you described Tank! Team, I've got an idea. Honker? Foxtail?'

When the other two answered, he took a map and circled an address. 'Go here. This's where the master criminal Tuskernini is living. Observe him.'

'Is it safe to stake out a criminal?' Foxtail asked.

'You're there to get Honker out fast if needed, but I don't think he's in any danger. He's been through a therapy programme.'

Honker and Foxtail gulped as they made the connection. Darkwing tossed a blindfold over to the two, which Honker fastened onto the doctor. 'He's parked by the bridge tower, Honk. Get him to his car, and get over there with binoculars. And this.' He tossed the notebook back, bowling the duckling over.

As the two of them left, Darkwing turned to Gizmoduck. 'I want you, Gizmoduck, to do what you do best!'

'What's that?' he asked. 'Pound the perps?'

'Not yet, but this is up your alley--I want you to stage a superhero parade!'

'You what?'

Darkwing grimaced. 'I don't like the idea, but this is valuable reconnaisance. Follow this route.' He traced a route on the map, starting from the bridge tower. Gizmoduck noticed how it passed near where he'd noted Tuskernini was staying. 'Show off, do your thing, toot your horns, whatever. And make ABSOLUTELY sure you gauge the crowd's response. Don't change your parade, just watch how they react. I'll be observing along the route as well.'

'With a sniper rifle?' Gizmoduck wryly added.

'Ha ha,' Darkwing replied. 'Just get going, your public's waiting.'

Gizmoduck shrugged, saluted, and flew out the window. Darkwing heard his familiar fanfare, followed by a PA announcement. With his own preparations and agenda, he buckled on his helmet, dropped into the Ratcatcher, and roared off down the support cable to the street below.

* * *

So, after wind and rain and storm (and restoration of power), chapter 5's finally up. More to come, obviously.


	6. Chapter 6

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 6

* * *

Honker found himself chuckling as he watched through his binoculars

Normally, when out in the field on some sort of crimefighting mission, he would end up following someone else's lead. Understandable, of course--out of Darkwing, Launchpad, Gosalyn, and himself, he was generally the fourth in line for leadership. Being smart was a good thing, but that also included knowing when to follow. Besides, something about the Mallards' outgoingness was almost comforting, despite how it tended to leave him trapped in an adult's body, buried in quicksand, roaring through the night on the Ratcatcher, attacked by a storm of ants, kidnapped by ...

Honker shook his head. Maybe being in charge would be a little better.

At least this time, he was on what should be a sedate mission. Darkwing had sent him to watch Tuskernini, and while spying on criminals would normally be dangerous, he figured Darkwing had something else in mind. Perhaps some connection to what had affected his brother, and what may have happenned to Gosalyn, prompted the stakeout. And from what he saw, Darkwing might be onto something.

He'd watched carefuflly, and reported things to the psychiatrist beside him. Foxtail seemed more nervous, and Honker savoured being the one in charge. 'Tuskernini's boiling water. Looks like he's hesitant, like he's afraid of the stove.'

'Tenative?'

'Yeah.'

Foxtail thought, then looked around. 'I still think this was reckless of him.'

'If it was dangerous, he wouldn't let us near it. He generally handles that himself.'

The two settled in, just in time to hear a loud fanfare and a distant cheer. 'What's that?' Foxtail asked.

Honker turned to check as he heard it, and focussed in. 'It's Gizmoduck. Looks like he's leading a parade.'

Foxtail stood up to watch. Honker stayed staring at the armoured duck before turning back to see Tuskernini. 'Hey, look!'

'Where?' Foxtail asked. Honker passed the binoculars to him, and pointed the scene out.

As Foxtail watched, he saw Tuskernini cowering in his apartment, terrified. 'Mortal dread. Maybe it's his life of crime and conditioning to be afraid of crimefighters?'

Honker wrote a few things in his notebook, and turned to look at the parade. Gizmoduck had gotten closer, and was well within sight without the binoculars. A small crowd had indeed gathered around, and the free treats were being sent out like normal. 'Wonder what that's about?' Honker asked, and reached for the binoculars to resume his surveillance.

As he turned back to the apartment, he spent some time trying to refind Tuskernini's room. He looked in another, and found another man cowering under the bed. He shook his head, and resumed watching.

--

Darkwing crouched, ready, across the street from Gosalyn's new home. He aligned the monitor camera, and thumbed his concealed mic. 'Launchpad, are you getting this?'

'Got it, DW. It's as clear as mother's milk!'

Darkwing rolled his eyes. 'That's "crystal". Anyway, make sure that the computers are recording this too.'

'Gotcha!' The headset went dead, and Darkwing turned to his main focus.

He'd set up the camera to cover the front of the house. While he trusted his own observational skills, he wanted to be absolutely sure no information escaped him, which involved wiring enough cameras up to film two or three movies. He was certain that every millimetre of space would end up on film, although he kept a separate set for his own observations.

He then gritted his teeth as he heard Gizmoduck's parade approach. He'd been expecting it, and naturally he'd arrived earlier than he was really needed. And it turned in his gut just how much adoration was generally heaped on the gaudy gizmo gander.

--

Gizmoduck kept his sensors online as he cruised through the neighbourhood. He'd already noticed crowds were less enthusiastic, and a few people had even fled from him. Noncriminals, too. He scheduled an appointment to discuss vigilante tactics and publicity with Darkwing; it seemed like he was having an effect on the whole industry.

He turned his attention to the upcoming house; he'd noticed Darkwing had paid special attention to it earlier. True to form, he found Darkwing skulking in the bushes, as well as a significant amount of surveillance equipment. He paused his waving for a few moments, until a set of children came up to him. 'Would you like a sample of the new Gizmoduck action figures?' he boomed out to the public.

Most of them reached out, but he winced inwardly as he noticed two back away.

--

Darkwing scowled. Once Gizmoduck's fanfare was heard, he saw the front blinds on the house snap shut. This didn't foil the coverage in the rear, though, and he was able to see everything else going on inside. 'Launchpad, do you believe this?'

'Heck no,' his sidekick reported. 'What's Becky doin' in there?'

'What are you talking about, Launchpad?'

'Pilot buddy of mine. Guess this's where she lives when she's not at the club.'

Darkwing scowled. 'She? You mean you know Alice?'

'I don't know any Alice, but looks like Becky adopted Gos. She's a test pilot for the Air Force. At least, she's a test pilot when she's not in jail for bar brawls.'

'Very interesting,' Darkwing added. He waited until Gizmoduck had left, and the crowds thinned, then gathered his equipment and roared back to the Tower.

--

'Are ya sure it's good for me to be seen with ya, DW? You know how the judge can be.' Launchpad fidgeted as Darkwing returned, remembering the earlier threats.

'This is more important,' Darkwing said. He first took the notes from Honker and Foxtail, and read while Honker spoke.

'Tuskernini was terrified, Mr Darkwing, sir,' Honker began. 'He didn't come out from hiding for about an hour.'

'It's a halfway house for other convicts,' Foxtail added. 'Some of them jeered, some of them just bore it, but a few had the same reactions as Tuskernini did.'

'Names?' Darkwing asked. Honker turned the report to the page showing the requested information.

Darkwing then dropped the report into his analysis computer, and turned to Launchpad. 'Give me everything you know about Becky; you said you've met her before.'

Launchpad scratched his chin. 'Well, there's not much else to say. Flies pretty good, doesn't crash as often as you'd expect, and sometimes starts brawls when out drinking. Nothin' unusual.'

'What's her full name?'

'Rebecca Cunningham, Jr. Named after her grandma.'

Darkwing wrote it down, then reached to bring up a display. 'Looks like someone I met about a couple of months ago. Huge bar brawl.'

'That's right!' Launchpad yelled. 'That's the day you came back with a wrench bent over your--'

'Enough details, LP.' Darkwing typed more, and dropped those notes in. 'Gizmoduck?'

'There were a lot of people who went into hiding. Either the crime wave's up or you've ruined the name of costumed crimefighters, and I doubt even you could do that singlehandedly.'

Darkwing growled. 'Just show me where you were getting the cold shoulder. Don't bother including here.'

Gizmoduck printed out a set of data points; Darkwing looked those over, and fed that information into the computer. His fingers flew over the keyboards, the electronic brain in the machine racing his mind over analyzing and manipulating the data gathered.

After several moments, he leaned back, and closed his eyes. He folded his fingers over his abdomen and started pushing his lips in and out, back and forth, almost intent on that simple fact.

Foxtail looked on in rapt interest. 'This is incredibly similar to how the famous Nero Wolf would look in the detective novels when he was thinking about a case.'

'Nah,' Launchpad said, 'he's probably got something stuck in his teeth.'

After several minutes (and a toothpick), Darkwing smiled. He typed a command into the machine, which broke off its process and displayed a map. 'There. This is what I've been thinking. Giz, I think you're on the right track--going the wrong way entirely, but on the right track.'

'What do you mean, Darkwing?'

'Simple. Somehow, you're a more popular crimefighter in Saint Canard than I am, so I had you go out and gauge just how popular you still were. While you did that, Honker and I were watching two specific data points. Here's where you went by Tuskernini, and some of the criminals there were terrified. You also mentioned all sorts of other folks who acted like you were a tank on its way to kill them, here here and here.

'And then you came to this house, where Ms Cunningham was. This was set up a few weeks ago, shortly after she was taken in on a disorderly conduct charge. The house isn't under her name, and she's not even using that name at this point, BUT the name on the mortgage is linked to an avant-garde protester. We can only assume that's what Bob was.

'So I took all that information, including which houses shut you out, and I found two sets of links. Some of them were sent to an experimental rehabilitation programme for offenders, ranging from speeding tickets to mass murder. Others were in a school counselling setup. And the only difference in THOSE data points were the ages, which matches which programme they'd been sent to!

'And those two seemingly separate sets of circumstances come together right HERE.' He thumped his finger on the screen, and looked at the address. 'The Friendly Outreach for Uniform Love. F O U L.'

'You think it's FOWL, DW?' Launchpad asked.

'I wouldn't put it past them, but this is my next stop. Don't wait up for me.' He swirled his cape and evaporated.

--

Darkwing glowered out from the nearby bushes. Cunningly hidden, he saw the car of Principal Farnsworth pull into a guest space; the principal herself got out and entered the building. 'I should've figured they'd need her approval to do this to the kids; they must have the prison warden as well,' he muttered. Sneaking silently through shadow, the dexterous duck dove past the double doors.

Inside, he followed carefully, doing his best to keep ahead or behind--whichever kept him out of view as the principal walked on. After she entered an office, he looked up and down the hall. No-one was nearby, and it seemed like it was late enough in the day that no-one would think something odd about a potted plant being moved. He hid within, but snaked a stethoscope to the door to listen to the conversation within.

'How may I help you, Ms Farnsworth?' a voice said. It wasn't one he remembered.

'It's about the therapy programme,' Farnsworth answered. 'I'm worried it's changing the students too much. I've had some parents even ask me about how neccessary the whole thing is.'

'It's still in an experimental phase, ma'am,' the other person said. Must be either a spokesman or the man in charge, Darkwing thought to himself. 'The work we're doing should help eliminate antisocial and abnormal behaviours all over the world. And we're working ever harder to make sure that our techniques are safe and effective.'

'Perhaps I should pay a visit to see what this involves,' she asked. Darkwing hoped the other man agreed to it.

'Um ... of course,' he answered. 'I'll show you into our most recent adjustment centre. This way, please.'

Darkwing took the hint and made sure he looked like any other office potted plant. The door opened, and Farnsworth exited, following another nondescript canid man. 'Follow me, ma'am,' he said, and lead the way to a door on the far end of the hall.

Darkwing crawled up behind, keeping out of sight and diving into random offices and breakrooms until he caught up to them. The distant door led into a stairwell, and at a discrete distance he descended. When they came out, he saw an anteroom with several chambers leading off. Some showed 'occupied' signs, although one was empty. The doctor led Farnsworth into an empty chamber; Darkwing snuck over to one of the others.

He peered in through the window, and saw a boy strapped to a chair. Two almost generic-looking men were checking over equipment on the far wall; one looked like it was monitoring the 'patient'. The boy himself seemed terrified, his gaze forced onto a monitor up and above him. Whatever was displayed was out of view of Darkwing; the screen was facing into the room, the same direction he was.

The next room held a somewhat older girl. She was secured like the boy was, but seemed calmer, and nodded in time once in a while. She wore glasses, so Darkwing tried to angle himself to catch the display in the reflection from her lenses. It seemed to be showing pictures as opposed to text. There was no sound through the door, either.

The third cell held another man, and this one Darkwing recognised; it was the guy he caught speeding earlier. The man was standing, until a therapist pointed to the chair. The man dove in quickly while the scientists fastened him down. One leaned in to apparently ask a question; the speeder nodded in reply, and after that the procedure seemed to start.

Darkwing finally reached the door Farnsworth had entered; both the principal and her host were primarily viewing the equipment in the back. He snuck in, carrying the potted plant disguise, and made sure he could get a good view of the entire room.

'Now, Miss Farnsworth,' the spokesman said, 'I'll show you how it all works. Please sit here.' He led her to the chair in question.

Farnsworth sat down, and watched warily as she was secured. 'Why the restraints, Dr Smith?' she asked.

'It's for your safety,' he responded. Once the principal was fastened down, he allowed himself a chuckle. 'And mine, especially since I'm going to give you the works.' He walked to a table in the far side of the room as Farnsworth realised her dilemma.

Darkwing crouched, rehearsing his entry speech. Just as he was about to start the smoke, he heard, once again, the Gizmoduck fanfare. He groaned and slapped his forehead--he had the villain right where he wanted him, with a hostage to rescue, and that metal mallard had to meddle!

The door to the cell was ripped back, and the unicycle hero rolled in. 'I highly doubt this has been approved by the American Medical Association!' he yelled, and extended a lockpick to spring Farnsworth free; she ran away once released.

'Neither is property damage!' Dr Smith replied. 'In fact, it's people like YOU that ruin worlds. Always barging in, always so self-important. Well, here's some instant therapy for your delusions of grandeur!' He pulled out a small raygun.

Darkwing looked at the weapon, trying to remember where he saw it before. Gizmoduck scoffed at the device. 'I hardly think that will be able to get through the armour of truth, justice, and AWK!'

Dr Smith impatiently interrupted Gizmoduck by blasting him. Gizmoduck stood in the beam for a few moments, then wobbled, and finally fell over. 'What ... what did you do to me?'

Smith put his weapon away and chuckled. 'Instant therapy.' He grunted as he pulled the downed crimefighter to the chair where Farnsworth was. 'Right now, it's designed to remove super powers from its victims. Looks like it works when the powers are mechanical instead of natural. Then again, it's a wonder any of that primitive stuff works.'

Gizmoduck struggled, but was barely able to move his arm, let alone break out of the restraints. 'Primitive?' he yelled. 'This is state of the art crimefighting equipment!'

'Not where I come from,' Smith gloated, and grabbed at his muzzle. He then pulled, and confirmed Darkwing's suspicions that started when he pulled the weapon.

'Even an Ordinary Guy from Mertz can overcome this tinker-toy stuff.'


	7. Chapter 7

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 7

* * *

Gosalyn fretted, awkwardly wiggling her fingers through one of the ribbons on her dress. She'd been sent to her room again. She didn't mean ill, but ...

It was a scene that replayed itself every so often in her new home. Sometimes it would be a mistake, sometimes it would be a question put wrong. The Smiths weren't horrible, or hurtful, but whenever she crossed the line she'd be sent here.

Each time she tried to figure out where the line was, she'd get an instant answer from both Bob and Alice: she was supposed to stay ladylike, defer to her betters, and not question. She wasn't supposed to push or try anything to rock the boat. She was supposed to conform.

The last time, she had been helping dust in the main room. A good thing for a girl to do on a Saturday night. In the process, she had accidentally turned the television on, and found herself up close to see a night game. College, by the looks of it.

She spent a few moments watching up close, then remembered her chore. Well, polishing the screen is easier when it's lit up, so she can see if there are any smudges that would mar the picture for the rest of the family, right? And she's supposed to make sure she does a good job of cleaning while the Smiths were out. She wondered what they were doing, but it wasn't her place to ask. She frowned at that, although she had to accept that. For now?

Once she finished polishing and dusting, she had some time to herself; she'd finished the chores before her foster parents had returned from their night out. And the halftime break had just finished, with the score tied. She smoothed her skirt, sat in the couch the proper distance away, and watched the game.

She'd been told that football wasn't something that girls should play, but there were girls and women watching, so it should be OK to watch. And if they were there, what was so wrong with it, anyway? Besides, she recognised what was going on there ...

When the Smiths returned, they saw Gosalyn jump off the couch, barely restrained in anger as she landed. 'That was not pass interference!' she yelled. 'The defender did not touch him!'

Gosalyn sighed as she remembered that, and the incident before that. She'd been in a bookstore with the Smiths, looking for another Bible. Apparently theirs wasn't good enough, especially after Bob accidentally dropped it in the sink while trying to add reading time to dishwashing. In the bookstore, she was separated, and found herself next to some comic books. She saw a rack full of heroes, flinching away from the proud gleaming Gizmoduck covers, and whimpered as she turned from that to a dark, shadowy Darkwing Duck, gun in hand. Those kind of people are wrong, right?

She fled from there to the newspapers, and tried to lose herself in the local newspaper. When the Smiths returned, she'd pointed to an article and asked, 'Why are the bad men arresting other bad men?' It was describing the latest Gizmoduck exploit.

And before that, she'd questioned why Bob kept trying to repair the sink, and why Bob always drove. And before then, it was a video game--yes, it was a war game, but it wasn't real, so it should be OK, and it was fun too.

And each time she was told that she was a dainty, delicate flower of a girl, that she needed to grow up like Alice, meek and ready to do as her future husband asked. Alice looked on the verge of tears most of the time, though, and Bob seemed terrified whenever he asked for anything more than the time of day, although he passed it off as his responsibility as the Man of the House.

She looked at her nightstand ... fluffy cuddly toys. Cats, bears, mice. She kept imagining the bear in a suit, and grumbling in a Russian accent. She looked at her dresser and the vanity there, full of curlers, combs, brushes, and makeup. Even though she wasn't supposed to even try wearing it until she was 18, they said, she had to get familiar. That didn't make any sense, did it? And why would she need that stuff then, anyway? To look good for boys at that point, but why look good when she can impress them on the field?

Oh, right, the dainty flower thing. She cringed as that brought itself back to her mind, remembering all the lectures on how to act ladylike and how wrong anything else was.

She staggered to the door, which featured a poster showing some generic actress. She didn't know her name, and didn't really care. What had caught her attention were echoes from the living room; the Smiths had a one-story house, and she could hear them discussing things in the room beyond.

'Sir, I'm worried about Gosalyn. I think she needs a little more help. ... Yes, I found her watching football, again ... You can? When? ... OK, thank you, sir.'

Gosalyn sighed as she returned to her bed and picked up the book sitting there. It was pink, with a princess on it. She vaguely remembered seeing its prequel in the orphanage. From what she remembered, the princess on the front mainly was captured, kidnapped, ransomed, or just stood around until the prince rescued her. She remembered disliking it and thinking of times when the princess could've resisted. A well-timed kick in the ...

NO! echoed in her mind, authoritatively, in a different voice. Princesses should wait for rescue! She should be a princess! Don't fight back! Fighting back is wrong!

She dropped to a knee, holding her head as the voices pounded their lessons through her thoughts. That must be why they want to schedule me for more therapy, she thought.

--

Gizmoduck struggled in his bonds, weakened after Ordinary Guy's power-draining weapon. 'Mertz? Never heard of it!'

Ordinary Guy chuckled. 'I'm surprised, actually. It's a planet FULL of self-righteous, obnoxious, nosy busybodies like you. Always thinking that their stupid powers give them carte blanche to barge in anywhere, all for the "greater good". And why? They thought I was helpless and meek. That I needed them.' He went back to the table. 'So I got revenge, and it was all interrupted by YOUR superhero. He stopped me, and sent me drifting in the empty depths of space.'

'I've never been to Mertz!' Gizmoduck protested.

'Who's talking about you, Gizmodumb? I meant Earth's best hero, Darkwing Duck.'

Gizmoduck looked amazed. 'Where do you get your information from?' he asked, then followed with, 'And where is Darkwing?'

'I haven't found him yet, although everyone in this city knows about him. So while I'm working on HIS revenge, I'm also using his citizens as guinea pigs for the weapon that'll destroy him. Know that little power sapping ray I hit you with, huh?'

'You're the sap!' Gizmo retorted. A weak reply, but he felt weak anyway.

'Nice. Well, it won't work on Darkwing. He has no superpowers. Cunning little man, knowing how to evade my ray. But I'm working on one that doesn't just sap physical prowess. It crushes the spirit of the man!'

Darkwing gulped, and reached into his cape for his gun. Gizmoduck sneered. 'The spirit of a TRUE hero can never be dominated by evil!' he stated. 'Heroism will triumph!'

Ordinary guy opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a hiss of smoke. He looked around hurriedly as a booming voice echoed from the walls of the cell ...

'I am the terror that FLAPS in the night! I am the new writing staff that recklessly retcons continuity! I am DARKWING DUCK!'

Ordinary Guy turned to Darkwing as the smoke cleared. 'You?! The ray's not ready for you yet!' He backpedalled to a desk.

'You're out too late, Ordinary Guy. We need to get you home. I'm sure some Official Guys on Mertz would LOVE to talk to you about supervillainy!'

'Ha! I've seen your villains. Posers and drama queens! A few turns in the Therapy Ripper and they're gibbering wrecks of fear. Same with anyone who showed any sign of getting out of line! That's what this was all set up for.'

'Do tell,' Darkwing said. A monologue would help fill in details, and let him unlock Gizmoduck on the sly.

'All right, I will!' Ordinary Guy yelled, stamping his foot. 'I'm gonna make sure to wipe superheroes off the face of the universe! And you taught me it's not just superpowers, it's super will. All a crimefighter needs is courage, conviction, and a clean cape ... so I'm gonna get rid of ALL of them!

'I've been using your citizens as guinea pigs. Finding out how to crush their spirits, make them fear everything--but ESPECIALLY fear the exceptional. They'll tremble at the thought of speeding, break into a panic over littering ... and when given the choice of supporting heroes or eradicating them ... well, we know which way they'll vote there, won't we?'

'It's genocide!' Gizmoduck yelled; Ordinary Guy nodded in agreement.

'And the children?' Darkwing asked. 'Wait ... you're making sure they grow into meek little nobodies who wouldn't lift a finger for anything!'

'That's right. No misbehaving here,' Ordinary Guy said, and pulled a sawed-off shotgun out from his desk. 'I was hoping to let you see the world die around you, Darkwing, but I know you can't do anything about this!' He fired.

Darkwing spun wildly. Pellets pierced and perforated the protagonist's paraphrenelia, but his elusive evasion education from Estonia served to keep him shot-free. 'Ha!' he said, and kicked the weapon away with ease. 'You think just because I don't have superpowers that I'll just stand there and get shot? How stupid are you?'

'I'm smart enough to have hired GUARDS! GUARDS!' Ordinary Guy replied. At the yell, sirens and klaxons sounded, bathing the whole facility in red light. 'I knew better than to come here outnumbered.'

Darkwing looked to the door, where three large goons with truncheons appeared. They advanced into the room. Darkwing reviewed his options when he heard a loud roar, and a crash.

When he turned around, he saw Gizmoduck lying atop Ordinary Guy. 'That was the last of my power reserves! Forget about me, Darkwing!' Gizmoduck yelled. 'Get out and warn the others!'

Ordinary Guy himself was pinned under Gizmoduck's weight; two goons went over to help while the third came at Darkwing. With a quick yell, a dive between the legs, and a solid kick in the back, he sent that thug into the pileup as well. He paused, then drew his gas gun and set it for a grappling hook, then fired it into the melee. 'And yoink!' he said as he pulled, and fished out ... the goon he'd kicked into the pile. He swore to himself; he'd hoped to fish Gizmoduck out.

'I said run!' Gizmoduck said. Darkwing kicked the goon back into the melee, let off a smoke round, and disappeared.

--

Ordinary Guy sighed. Darkwing had gotten away, and all due to even more stupid superheroism. He sneered at his captive, Gizmoduck. 'We're gonna put you to good use.'

'I won't ever allow it!'

'Don't worry, all you have to do is move our headquarters. There's an abandoned cinema that we acquired from a former patient ... and we can't afford having your buddy drop in on us.' Ordinary Guy then flipped some switches on Gizmoduck's front panel. 'There. Now your suit's set for remote voice command; I control your motor functions. And if you try anything funny, we can see how many deathtraps I can drive you into.'

An orderly came in. 'Sir, we need to prepare for the next run.'

Ordinary Guy grumbled. 'Great. Tell the patients we're gonna be delayed a while, and give them the new address.' When he heard that, Gizmoduck tried to activate his radio link ... and a bolt of writhing pain shot through him. 'Nice try. You thought I'd forget about radios, huh?' Ordinary Guy gloated.

'Curse you!'

--

Launchpad, Honker, and Foxtail stared as Darkwing returned to the Tower alone. 'What happenned to Gizmoduck?' Launchpad asked.

'He got himself captured,' Darkwing answered. 'I couldn't get him out, but he bought me enough time to find out what's going on, and who's responsible.'

After he finished telling the story, Honker raised his voice. 'Mr Darkwing, sir, couldn't we contact Mertz to have them fight this guy?'

'They never left me a way to get a hold of them; it's always been one of their heroes coming here for communication and property damage. And he's still got that power draining ray. We're the ducks for the job.'

Foxtail looked around the room as the other two nodded. 'Maybe the police would help,' he asked. 'This is something the authorities need to know about!'

'Dr Foxtail,' Honker said, 'the police know about it already. They're giving this guy test subjects.'

Launchpad then looked at the doctor. 'So did you, come to think of it ... ' He started approaching the fox, backing him into a corner. 'Like all the kids from Gosalyn's school. Including Honker's brother, and Gosalyn too.'

Foxtail held his arms up. 'I always said the Mallard girl was OK!' he pleaded, looking to Darkwing for help.

'Leave him alone, Launchpad. Ordinary Guy duped all of them. Even the principal; I hope she's allright. But still, it's time to fight fire retardant foam with fire!'

'You can do that?' Launchpad asked, distracted from revenge.

'He wants to make people safe and pliable. I've got a better idea ... let's get dangerous.'


	8. Chapter 8

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 8

* * *

Honker looked around himself, and dropped out of the Ratcatcher's sidecar. He winced as he felt the weight in his backpack shift; there were some special items that were stored there.

Outwardly, it looked like he was just any other student with too much homework, but Darkwing had come up with a plan on how to smuggle Gosalyn out of the house. To avoid suspicion, Honker was dropped off several blocks away, and was now walking to the Smiths' home, carrying what he would tell them was part of Gosalyn's homework from school. He'd even prepared a story just in case he was questioned on how long it took. 'When all else fails, blame City Hall,' Darkwing advised.

What Honker was really carrying was a combination homing device and high-speed two-duck rocket. It also included a snare net, to make sure Gosalyn was secure on her impromptu flight to freedom. The rocket was programmed to send them back to the Tower, the safest place in the city they could think of. While this was going on, Darkwing would launch the assault on the institute itself with Launchpad as well. This was too risky to leave as a solo job, and at this point it did not matter if Launchpad was seen with Darkwing; this was all or nothing.

He was somewhat surprised to hear that he'd been delegated the actual rescue-the-girl task. Darkwing just sighed and said, 'There's something I gotta do with Ordinary Guy, and it's best neither of you two saw it.' Honker gulped; again, he was reminded of Negaduck when he heard the tone of Darkwing's voice. 'And while I'm taking care of him, we need to make sure Gosalyn's safe. You just make sure both of you get pulled along for the ride.' That was why it was a two-duck rocket.

He ran up to the block with Gosalyn's new house, but saw the Smiths already filing out and into a car. 'Hey! Mr Smith! Mrs Smith!' he yelled, waving and straining to run up to them before they drove away.

Alice saw him, and whispered something to Bob. He paused, and turned to look at Honker coming up. 'Hello, little boy. Um ... how can I help you?'

'I was sent by Gosalyn's teacher from her other school; this is some stuff she and I were working on in science class,' Honker said, shifting his backpack and trying to make sure he didn't collapse under its weight. 'I'm sorry it took so long to get here.'

'Why, that's excellent. You two can study while we ride to Gosalyn's ... um, appointment, right!' Bob seemed flustered, not at Honker's arrival, but at saying what was going on.

'What appointment, Mr Smith?' Honker asked.

The Smiths fidgeted; while they tried to come up with a solution, Gosalyn tiptoed out, eyes on the ground. 'I'm ready for my therapy, Mr and Mrs Smith,' she said, barely above a whisper.

The Smiths blushed. 'It's just for something affecting her; the little one's been under the weather lately,' Bob tried to explain. 'Don't worry, you can't catch it.'

Honker tried to recompose himself; apparently they were about to go straight back to where Ordinary Guy's lab was. And probably run another experiment on her! 'Maybe we can at least read up on it in the back,' he said. 'It's OK, my parents said it was allright.'

'Well, as long as you two behave yourselves, it should be fine,' Bob said. Alice nodded, and waited for Bob to open the door for her, then got into the car.

Honker was more accustomed to doing this as well, although opening the door and standing aside was usually done to prevent Gosalyn from putting a dent in the door as she dove in. He fidgeted slightly, using the door to keep his balance, and once Gosalyn was safe inside he climbed in and thought about how to get the rocket out. He didn't want to blow up the Smiths by firing it in the car.

--

Darkwing growled as he snuck all around the former hideout. It seemed like everything from the sign out front to the breakroom garbage had been pulled up and hauled away; it looked like some of the walls didn't remain. 'They can't have gone far,' he said as he pored over the cell he last visited. 'And they must've known I'd be coming back.'

'Then what are we doing here?' Launchpad said.

Darkwing didn't bother with a theatrical sigh. 'It's where they'd have to start from. We know they were here a few hours ago; we can work from there once we find THIS!'

He waved Launchpad ovevr, and pointed at a slight amount of residue. 'Here. Gizmoduck's tyre track. He uses a special racing radial, Buzzards. Well, just one, but no-one else in the city uses them on the streets, and especially not indoors. They custom-make these for him.'

'How'd he get such a sweet deal?'

'Don't ask. They make me use their standard superhero compound on the Ratcatcher. Still, this explains how they moved so fast. They must've hotwired Gizmoduck to do their dirty work, assuming they didn't just brainwash him. That explains why his tyre left such a good imprint on these floors--he was weighed down with everything. And that super suit would let him haul the whole lab.'

They ran back outside to the Ratcatcher. Darkwing gunned the engine. 'LP, use the infraviolet ultrared scanner to check where the tracks go.'

'Right-o, DW,' Launchpad said, a little cheer back in his voice. He was finally back to helping Darkwing catch bad guys! Just like old times, he thought.

'Launchpad?'

'Huh?'

'The scanner?'

'Oh, right! Sorry, DW, just kind'a got lost in the moment.' Launchpad chuckled, and switched the scanner on, pointing its beam well in front of the bike. Darkwing sighed, and sped off following the trail.

After a few minutes, they stopped outside a familiar front. 'Back here, eh?' Darkwing mused as he looked over the building. 'Either he got it from Tuskernini or from the courts after they seized it. And they've got a few signs up. I think they might be expecting us.'

Launchpad climbed out of the sidecar and scratched his head. 'Think they'd put out any traps?'

Darkwing frowned as his feet hit the ground. He wasn't thinking of it, but the street was twitching slightly. He grabbed Launchpad's collar and dashed, pulling him with. Shortly afterwards, the marquee flipped to reveal a battery of lasers. They fired, carving the Ratcatcher into bits, and retracted. 'Probably gauged to get me. The parking's in a side lot and there's no intersections to hold traffic up.'

'Good thinkin', DW!' Launchpad wiped sweat off his brow with his scarf. 'You think they did the sidewalk, too?'

'That's too risky. Too many civilians get toasted, they get more folks investigating. It'll be inside.' He drew his gun, adjusted his hat, and tiptoed behind the building to find a stealthy entrance.

--

When the Smiths pulled up to the building, a crew was outside sweeping the street. They pulled into the nearby lot and exited, Honker staggering under his load.

'There must've been some kind of accident,' Bob said, and looked to his wife. 'That's why we drive ten miles under the limit instead of five.' Alice whimpered and looked down, mumbling an apology. Bob sighed and put his arm around her. 'It's OK, just don't counter what I say, OK? We just need to be good men and women for Gosalyn.'

Honker staggered, bumping into Gosalyn as she stood looking at the cleanup crew. She squealed and stumbled forward, bumping into one of the workers. 'I'm sorry, miss, are you allright?' he asked.

Gosalyn backed away and looked at the Smiths, who stared back at him. Honker finally spoke up to break the silence. 'It's my fault,' he said, 'I bumped into her by accident.'

'Think it's your homework,' Bob said, and tugged at the pack. Honker tried to struggle, but soon fell out of the straps on his backpack. 'More than I ever ... I mean ... um ... ' Bob struggled, and cringed. After that, he forced out the phrase, 'Not as much as I did.' He then opened the package, and stared inside.

'What is it?' Alice asked, and walked to look. 'Oh ... that's a weird project. It reminds me of something I once saw ... long ago ... ' She stopped, puzzled in thought, and winced as well. 'Nothing I'd ever do,' she followed with, rubbing her head.

'Did it say what this button did?' Bob asked. Honker heard a click from inside, and tried to yell at them to stop, but it was too late.

The backpack burst open and a net sprang out, snaring the Smiths. As they struggled and screamed, it lifted off; Honker watched the exhaust trail leading away and to the tower. 'No wonder I'm usually a sidekick,' he mutterred to himself.

The crew stared in amazement as well, and turned to the kids. The first man spoke up and said, 'We need to get you two inside. In case something like that happens again.'

Honker tried to look for a place to run off to, but Gosalyn was already walking with the crewman, and he doubted he'd be able to drag her along. Plus, it'd make it even worse--the rocket launch was a calculated risk, but it had a speedy getaway. He instead followed, guessing that his best bet was to try to protect Gosalyn more personally.

Not that he knew how, he thought to himself.

--

'The master of misdirection makes his mighty way through the maze of medoicrity that is modern medicine,' Darkwing mutterred to himself. He and Launchpad had stolen a couple of coats and were walking through a corridor of the new base. Darkwing didn't like being this out in the open and overt, but the coat helped suggest he belonged there. He had his costume ready to spring back on in a moment's notice, but otherwise he looked like any other generic duck in a building.

'What're we looking for, DW?' Launchpad asked. Darkwing tensed up as he heard his initials, but no-one turned to look at them.

'We need to find the lab where Ordinary Guy's set up. I bet it's downstairs again. Villains love that sort of thing.'

'Must be nice knowing that much about crooks,' Launchpad added.

'It's a functional design. SHUSH does the same thing. For one, it helps avoid scrutiny from the streets. The upper floors all have more bureaucracy in them, and crimefighters like me find too much paperwork boring; it's why we become superheroes instead of cops. The real goods are downstairs.'

The two took an elevator down to the basement. Darkwing thought about how to appear innocuous, but the lift car already had someone in it who even held the door for them, paying no attention otherwise. Once downstairs, the other duck wandered off on his own business, leaving the two to appraise the area.

This was set up as if it were a wing of a building, with its own security checkin. This time there was a large goon as well as an oblivious receptionist. 'Tricky,' Darkwing thought to himself, then scanned the surroundings before leading Launchpad to the men's room. 'That's apparently a sleep study area. Perfect place to hide cells.'

'Wow. Hope Gizmoduck's getting plenty of rest in there.'

'It's time to wake up Duckburg's finest. And I've got plenty of wakeup calls here.' He reached into a pocket, and withdrew several items. Launchpad didn't recognise the pills, although the mallet and airhorn were other ways it appeared that Darkwing meant to get Gizmoduck going again.

'What if he's still under Ordinary Guy's control, DW? You can't fight him.'

'And why's that?' Darkwing snapped.

'He's armoured. You're not.'

'Thanks for your confidence, LOYAL sidekick,' Darkwing grumbled, 'but I'm prepared for that too.' He pulled one last item from his gimmicks. 'Armour-piercing brass knuckles.' He put them back in his coat. 'Meanwhile, all this won't do us any good unless we get through to him.'

'Hey, DW ... maybe we can steal a gurney, and you can wheel me in under a sheet! Just tell 'em I'm another patient and I need to get set up in there! The guard and the receptionist would just wave us on through!'

'Nice thought, LP,' Darkwing mused. In fact, he hadn't considered it as an idea. 'However, I have a more subtle plan.'

'What's that?'

--

Honker shivered as he and Gosalyn were escorted into a waiting room. The worker from outside guided the two children to a bench and said, 'A nurse should see you two in a few moments. I gotta get back to the cleanup. There was a bad accident outside.' With that, he left them waiting.

Honker fidgeted, and as he looked to Gosalyn, he saw she was even more tense. He'd seen her scared for good reasons before--imminent death, more imminent death, and the old standby, imminent death. Still, in the face of those, while very naturally scared, she still seemed, if not certain of surviving, at least ready to take it on if need be. He sighed, and reached over to talk to his friend. 'What do they normally do here?' he asked, then winced--this would likely only remind her more of what goes on.

Still, it got Gosalyn out of her shell. 'Well,' she said, 'I tell them what I did wrong, and they make sure I know that it's not right for me to think about that kind of thing.' She held her hands together, thumbs wriggling. 'They said that it's set up so whenever I try to think of or do those kinds of things, I get told it's wrong, so eventually I'll stop doing it. And it works, to a point.'

'What point's that?' Honker said, unable to suppress another shiver. Still, this sounded like a possible weak point in the brainwashing.

'I don't know,' she replied. 'I think it's just that they're still developing the technique, and testing it so that they make sure they cover all naughty behaviour.' She frowned as she looked at her feet. 'They say I'm almost inventive with that.'

'It's OK, Gos,' Honker said. 'I'm sure things'll get better for you.' He hesitated for a while, then extended an arm, offering a hug to Gosalyn. She sighed and leaned in against him.

'They say this is supposed to be what I do when I get scared,' she said. 'It usually doesn't work, but it's helping a little.'

Honker just hugged her, wincing as he felt and heard an explosion below him, wondering if it was in store for her, or him.

--

Darkwing brushed dust off his disguise. 'See? Simple, quick, and efficient.'

Launchpad pulled himself out of some rubble. 'Wasn't it a little loud, DW?'

'Just a bit, but we also need speed. We need to get Gizmoduck out of here, too. Then we take care of Ordinary Guy!'

As Darkwing led the way down the corridor, taking the left, Launchpad smiled. It was great to see Darkwing concerned about his archrival this way. Of course, he could also hold it over Gizmoduck's head that Darkwing had to save him, but that wasn't important, the rescue was. The two started peering into the rooms, finding a few empty but many with people in various stages of the 'therapy', ranging from struggling in restraints and watching a screen to cowering as they press a button to activate something.

Darkwing sighed as he kept the search going. He really wanted to get those people out and lead them to safety, but in their state, he knew that springing them would put them in more danger, and taking on danger was his job, not theirs. That was all assuming they'd even try to flee, too; from what he saw of the Smiths, he doubted they would cooperate in the name of self-preservation. 'Ordinary Guy's gonna pay for doing this to Gos,' he grumbled as he patted his pocket, taking a quick inventory of his arsenal.

They reached an intersection. To their right, they saw the checkpoint they'd bypassed. The staff there didn't seem any more aware than earlier, their attention focussed out and not in. 'Perfect,' Darkwing said. Ahead of them was what looked like another wing; they seemed to be at a T intersection, with a door to their left taking the place of a fourth hallway.

On a hunch, Darkwing peered in the window, then gasped and pulled Launchpad down and back into the hall they'd come out of. 'He's in there!,' he whispered.

'Who, Gizmoduck or Ordinary Guy?'

'Gizmoduck. Get ready.'

--

'Miss Waddlemeyer?'

Honker ignored the nurse's question; the name didn't sound familiar to him. He then noticed Gosalyn was trying to gently prod him. 'What is it, Gos?' he asked.

'Please let go ... they're calling for me,' she said.

Honker looked at her, confused. 'They said "Waddlemeyer",' he protested.

Gosalyn nodded. 'They haven't changed it to "Smith" yet, and I'm no longer with ... er, with Drake Mallard,' she said. Honker noticed a slight twitch on her bill as she said that.

The nurse approached the kids, and looked at Honker. 'Can I help you, little boy?' she asked.

'I'm ... um, here with Gosalyn,' he stammerred. 'Can I go with?'

The nurse smiled. 'I'm sorry ... even if you have a crush on her, you still have to stay here. By the way, where are your parents? I know the Smiths had an accident on the way here, but where are your folks?'

'He came with us,' Gosalyn said. 'We should call his mother and father, so they can come pick us up.'

'That's a good idea. Could I have your number, little boy?'

Honker sighed and told the nurse. His spirits sank; he felt as if he'd failed his mission. And now Gosalyn was about to be taken away for another of those horrible sessions, and he knew he had no chance to either outrun or overpower the staff. Before he let go of Gosalyn, though, he looked at her. 'Gos?'

'Yes, Honker?'

'Just remember your dad. Your real dad, OK?'

Gosalyn looked at him, confused. 'I ... I will, I think,' she said, and let the nurse take her to the nearby elevator.

--

Inside the cell, Gizmoduck struggled against his suit. He couldn't get it to respond to his commands like it normally would, and as such its enhanced strength was now working against him, rather than for him. He sighed and sagged inside, only able to look forward.

His cell was much like the earlier lab he was caught in when he first met Ordinary Guy, and from the information he'd gathered, they had built many more like it under the old cineplex. This room was a little more than twice as large as needed, and designed apparently for ducks who weren't wearing power suits. It held two therapy stations, complete with restraints. Each had a monitor for the victim's conditioning. There was also a work desk with chair for the supervising 'therapist' to take notes; since no therapist was scheduled for him, the desk was bare and unused.

He then gasped as a familiar blue smoke plume rose. Without fanfare, Darkwing Duck and Launchpad emerged from it. 'Gizmoduck! We're here to free you!' Darkwing said.

'It's a trap! Get out! Ordinary Guy knows you're here by now!' Gizmoduck yelled. 'He's hijacked my visual sensors!'

'Then we'd better move fast,' Darkwing said, pulling out a hacksaw as he got closer. 'How do they have you locked up in here?'

Gizmoduck yelped as his arm suddenly shot out, knocking Darkwing into the far corner with a hard right hook. As Darkwing rubbed his jaw, he heard a familiar whiny voice behind him.

'I reprogrammed his suit. He's under MY control, smartypants!' Ordinary Guy gloated as he walked into the cell, closing the door behind him. 'Gizmoduck? Kill him.'


	9. Chapter 9

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 9

* * *

Ordinary Guy chuckled as he leaned against the back wall. 'The plan worked perfectly!' he yelled. 'I made sure to lead you in here with that trail from Gizmoduck. Too bad you didn't get shredded by the street lasers, and you already cost me a bunch when you blew up the men's room to get in here, but it's all worth it to watch this!'

Darkwing dove to his left to avoid a punch from Gizmoduck, and planted a pedal on Gizmoduck's posterior, pushing away to pop back up. 'Watch what, your schemes come to a close?'

Without turning around, two ports opened on Gizmoduck's back. Out of each, a barrel poked out. Darkwing gulped--he didn't remember machineguns being part of Gizmoduck's usual loadout, but apparently here they were. He swirled his cape and let off a smoke round, disappearing as the deadly hail of fire ripped through the cloud.

'No, Dumbwing. See, if you got past that, then you were definitely superhero material. And so I came up with the superhero dilemma--Gizmoduck has been reprogrammed to kill you, and since he's still a superhero in that tin can, you can't hurt him! A perfect trap!'

Launchpad looked around nervously; Ordinary Guy chuckled. 'Don't worry, whoever you are. He'll kill you too.'

'I'm not worried about me, actually,' Launchpad said as he heard a slight hiss ... and saw the familiar cloud above the far monitor.

Gizmoduck heard it as well, and yelped as he was spun, this time to aim his main cannon. Several rounds fired off, bringing the monitor and much of the ceiling down in a smoking heap. 'Darkwing, are you OK?' he yelled, trying to regain control over his suit. They'd had their differences, but to kill another hero ... he could never live that down. Especially while under control of a villain.

He then felt a blow slam into his back, sending him bill-first into the ground with a dull ache where the armour was hit. Impossible!

'I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!' Darkwing yelled, landing after the kick, his trademark gas gun in hand. As Gizmoduck arose, he crouched and without looking fired a caltrop round at his wheel; the loud bang announced that Gizmoduck's tyre, while reinforced and durable, was still a tyre, albeit currently a blown out one. 'I AM THE INSURANCE ADJUSTER THAT DENIES THE CLAIMS OF CRIME!'

'Maximum force, Gizmoduck! Kill him!' Ordinary Guy yelled. Gizmoduck gulped as his full arsenal came out--Darkwing was still a sitting (well, crouching) duck in his sights. His copter blade extended as he rose up like an attack helicopter stalking an enemy tank.

'Darkwing! Look out!' Gizmoduck yelled as every missile, cannon, machine gun, and harpoon fired where he was crouching.

At the last moment, Darkwing rolled back, away from the crater he was about to become one with, letting the concussion throw him to the right position. He picked that spot to kick on Gizmoduck for a reason: that was where he'd seen Gizmoduck fuelling himself in the past, and the kick was right on the release for the door. He let loose another round from his gas gun ... and a five kilo bag of sugar slammed into Gizmoduck's refuelling port.

Gizmoduck gagged as he felt his suit lose power. He twitched. 'You ... you ... ' he stutterred, then crashed to the ground. His auxillary power tried to right him ... but was soon foiled as a sledgehammer smashed down on his helmet.

'I ... am DARKWING DUCK!'

Ordinary Guy backed into the door. 'Hey! Superheroes aren't supposed to beat up each other!'

'Ever hear of mistaken identity? And besides, what superhero wouldn't give up his life to vanquish a villain?' Darkwing said as he advanced on Ordinary Guy, sledgehammer at the ready. He brought it for Gizmoduck, but was sure it would slow down a ... whatever people from Mertz called themselves. 'I'm sure Gizmoduck was happy to sacrifice himself to have you brought to justice.'

'I wouldn't say "happy",' Gizmoduck added.

Ordinary Guy reached back to open the cell door, to be greeted by a plain nurse escorting Gosalyn into the area, standing in the intersection. 'There's something else heroes are happy to do!' he yelled and ran out, grabbing Gosalyn up. Darkwing growled and aimed his gun, hammer in his other hand, but all too quickly Ordinary Guy had a pistol at Gosalyn's head. 'They also wouldn't hurt innocents, like little girls, would they?'

Darkwing snarled. Part of him had hoped that Gosalyn would at least struggle; in the chaos, he could get a stun round on Ordinary Guy, or a smoke round could let his daughter escape. But she dangled passively, terror in her eyes as she stared at him. The look hit him harder than a thousand thugs' thunderous throes, worse than the occasional architecture that slammed into him. 'Let her go,' he said, still aiming.

'Sit down on that table. You too, sidekick. I made sure to stock up on this place. On the table now, or it's bye bye sweet pie.'

Darkwing grumbled, and heard the rattling behind him. He'd struck long enough to keep Gizmoduck down for a few key moments, moments that he had planned on using to undo the voice override, or at least fleeing. Those moments had been used up when Ordinary Guy grabbed his daughter. The nurse had already ran away, but down the wrong corridor, which was for the best; at least she could hide there and not alert security.

'Well, hero? What's it gonna be?' Ordinary Guy gloated. And Darkwing was sure that he could see Gizmoduck stirring behind him, too. He scowled, and dropped the gun. 'Let her go,' he said as he walked to the table, climbing onto it. Launchpad glared, but went to his table.

'Gladly,' Ordinary Guy said. 'Gizmoduck, you get the bags over there. Gosalyn, sweetie?'

'Y ... yes, sir?'

'Do you see the bad man there? He needs some therapy. Go prepare him for his session. Now!'

Gosalyn whimpered out a 'Yes, sir,' and went to the table.

Darkwing stared in shock, not moving as his daughter tied the straps in. 'Gos, sweetie, don't you remember me?'

'I ... I do,' she said. 'He ... he said that you're dangerous ... you say you're dangerous ... I ... I have to do this because he said so. We shouldn't get dangerous.'

Ordinary Guy smiled as Gosalyn finished preparing Darkwing. Gizmoduck stayed where he was; he'd sustained too much damage to move, although Launchpad seemed ready as well. 'This was all too easy, Darkwing. You see, everyone really hates superheroes. So smug and arrogant, sticking your noses into everyone's business. And when someone tries to change things, what happens? They call in more heroes and stomp you.'

'If I recall,' Darkwing said, 'you'd started by draining all the other heroes of Mertz with your ray gun. Ever think we might object?'

'I stopped caring the fifth time I was squashed by some musclehead who thought it was worth it to save me from getting wet in the rain! And don't think I forgot the old ray gun ... '

Ordinary Guy pulled it out from his jacket. 'Now that Gizmoduck's outlived his usefulness ... goodbye, hero!' He fired it, straight at the badly dented chestplate.

Darkwing could only watch as the beam struck Gizmoduck. The cyberhero yelled 'Blathering Blatherskite!' and seemed to explode, his armour flying off in all directions. When the glow faded, he heard Gosalyn and Launchpad gasp; the only thing that stopped his own was that he'd seen the effects before.

Standing where Gizmoduck had been was what looked like a meek little man, the sort that Honker might be able to bully into giving him his lunch money. He even had on a by-now singed suit and tie. He coughed a few times. 'Um, hi?' he asked, looking at the alien, then sagged, too weak from the abuse from his suit and later from his rival.

'Now that that's taken care of,' Ordinary Guy said, 'it's time for some therapy!' He busied himself with repairing the monitor that was destroyed by the initial assault. 'It's pretty weird, you know?' he said conversationally. 'I mean, I hate superheroes for what they've done to my life, but seriously, you guys aren't all that great. Wiping out your heroes and villains is probably doing you a favour in the short run.'

'How's that?' Darkwing snarled. Ordinary Guy was too close; he couldn't activate his buzzsaw cufflinks while he was still in sight. He also still had the pistol, which would still end his life ... or worse, Gosalyn's.

'Take that little girl. She's probably nothing to you, but would you believe that kid's been through so much stuff that it reads like a bad drama. Lost her parents, then her grandpa gets gunned down, then she gets kidnapped, and then there's her new home, with those two weirdos. Say, you're one of them, aren't you?'

'Who are you calling a weirdo?' Darkwing snarled.

'I wasn't talking about you, freak,' Ordinary Guy retorted. 'I meant your sidekick. Two single guys like that, and a little girl. Some of the city council commended me on getting her out of there.'

'You still broke up my family!' Launchpad yelled. 'If I get out of these straps DW ain't gonna have enough of you left to haul to jail!'

'Yeah, right. You're going nowhere, DW is gonna retire and become a drone in some factory working 9 to 5, and that kid's gonna go to a real family with real parents and live a bland meaningless life. Heh. Those clods on Mertz won't stand a chance,' Ordinary Guy gloated as he set the monitor up. He walked to the desk, where Gosalyn had been standing, and took out a control.

'What was wrong with my other family?' she asked him.

Ordinary Guy paused at the question out of the blue. 'Never mind that, I'll let you know. Just think about having a real daddy. That's what little orphan girls want, their real daddy back. Even her best friend knows that. Told us earlier.'

'My real daddy,' she said, and looked across the room.

Darkwing sagged for a few moments, then smiled. 'Her best friend ... direct from his mouth. Say, you want your real daddy, right, Gosalyn?' he asked.

Launchpad stared at his mentor. Had he flipped? 'He's dead and buried, DW! What are you doing?'

'Giving a little orphan girl what she really wants. Her real daddy. She can get him back, and she even knows who took him away from her.'

Ordinary Guy thought, and picked up a PDA. 'Funny, nothing about her seeing them gunned down in front of her. Good thing, too--she'd probably put on some sort of rodent costume and beat people up.'

Gosalyn meanwhile found herself thinking. Honker had said she should remember her dad, and here the bad man was saying she really should want her real daddy. And she tried to think of what a real daddy would look like.

Everything in her mind and life as of late had said that Bob Smith was a 'real daddy'. He had a job, came home, had a housewife, and did nothing unusual or out of line. A model citizen. Everything as cleancut as possible, even to being a stern but fair disciplinarian, letting her know what to watch and what to not watch based on what a little girl should see in order to be a little lady when she grew up. The sort who would raise her girl to be a pretty princess.

Then she looked at the duck on the table, and remembered. The conditioning fought back, and it felt to her as if a vice was screaming at her while crushing her soul to remind her of what a daddy was.

Then she grasped a set of concepts that eased the assault just slightly, as it was in line with the teachings. A daddy protects his daughter. A daddy gives his daughter a good home. A daddy makes sure his little girl knows right from wrong.

And based on those, her daddy was about to be put into the machine that led her to emotional and spiritual agony the likes of which she'd never experienced in her short life.

Gosalyn screamed, clenching her fists as she struggled with her mind and the blocks forced in there. 'What's wrong with you?' Ordinary Guy said, turning to look at her.

She clenched her eyes tightly shut, shifted, and swing a wild left hook at him as a reply. 'You're about to hurt my dad!'

All three men winced as Gosalyn's punch, due to her shorter stature, slammed home below Ordinary Guy's belt, sending him to his knees whimpering and gasping, his remote falling out of his hands.

Gosalyn herself opened her eyes, staring at the downed doctor. She looked at her hands, opening them and closing them, and heard the chorus of voices telling her she was bad, evil, that she's wrong. 'Stop it!' she yelled, and threw another punch; this one sent Ordinary Guy spinning away as it landed on the side of his jaw.

'What are you doing?' he whimpered, still not recovered from the low blow. He tried to get to his feet, leaning on Darkwing's table.

'She's remembering how to be a good little girl, you fiend,' Darkwing snarled, and leaned. He was just close enough that he could bite him on the arm, sending the alien backing to the door, leaning as he tried to recover.

'You were gonna do to my daddy what you did to me,' Gosalyn said, trembling. Her hand rested on a corner of the desk, and she then turned to grab it. 'You ... you ruined my life, you took my daddy away and you hurt me and MAKE IT STOP!' With her last yell, she heaved the desk up over Ordinary Guy.

'I ... it's meant to be incurable!' he wailed. 'You're not supposed to even want to fight back!'

'I have to! And it hurts! And it's your fault!' Gosalyn's arms wavered from stress and the weight of her weapon, and her face twisted in agony. 'Make it stop!' She then brought the desk down on him, smashing part of it and leaving the alien dazed. She kept smashing it down again and again, repeating 'Make it stop!' as she punctuated each word with a blow.

Soon she was left holding nothing but a few fragments of wood in her hands, gasping for breath, staring at Ordinary Guy. He lay beaten down on the floor, bits of wood and some shapes that were drawers lying around and on him. He groaned, but didn't move again, out cold.

Gizmoduck struggled to his feet and started undoing the straps holding Launchpad down; the sidekick then freed Darkwing, who rushed to his daughter. 'Gosalyn, are you allright?'

Gosalyn wobbled on her feet, then fell against him, curling her legs up to her body. 'No ... I'm not allright, daddy,' she whispered.

'You're gonna be, sweetie.'


	10. Chapter 10

DUCKS IN A ROW  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 10

* * *

Herb Muddlefoot had already arrived by the time Darkwing and his party exited. With him were a team of police officers; they were summonned by the nurse that had fled earlier, likely from a cell phone she had. A few cameras whirred, but Darkwing didn't pay attention as he carried Gosalyn's tired body out of there. Behind him, Launchpad ungracefully dropped Ordinary Guy on the steps. Fenton walked out with Honker. The two stepped into Herb's car, and they drove off.

Without a word to the press asking questions, Darkwing and Launchpad met in the street. Launchpad pulled out a control, and shortly afterward the Thunderquack flew overhead, its hatch open. Darkwing fired his grappling hook into the hatch, grabbed Launchpad, and pulled the three of them up into the ship, flying off into the night.

--

They stepped out of the Thunderquack. As they did, they saw Gizmoduck flying in. His armour still looked batterred, but apparently it had been restored when his abilities were.

'Gee,' Launchpad said, 'without that suit on you really looked like that bean-counter for Mr McD.'

'It's a side effect of Ordinary Guy's power draining ray,' Darkwing said. He then looked, and saw the Smiths cowering in a corner, near the expired rocket. 'Get Alice and Bob back home. They've had enough, and they're gonna need help later to undo what he did to them.'

Gizmoduck paused. Darkwing can't have missed it, could he? Still, Launchpad saluted and went to the two, leading them to the Thunderquack. They tried to protest, but his firm hand guided them into the plane, and he took off.

Darkwing carried Gosalyn over to the bed he used to sleep in, and set her down. He watched over her, and pulled the covers up over her. She shivered and squirmed, turning around. Darkwing sighed, and took out a Darkwing doll, setting it by her. She snatched it up, and seemed to relax, clutching it tightly in her arms.

When he walked down from the dais, he looked over at Gizmoduck. He fidgeted, his gauntlets clanking. 'Weird how his ray turned me into that, wasn't it?' he said.

'Weird isn't the word.'

'What is, then?'

Darkwing smiled grimly, facing away from him. 'I'd go with "Blathering blatherskite".' As he said that, he heard Gizmoduck shake, and when he turned around, he saw Fenton Crackshell lying on the floor.

Fenton himself got up, staring at Darkwing. 'When did you know?'

'When he hit you with the ray. It doesn't change your shape, and when you yelled that it seemed like a command word. And between that and Launchpad's comment, I guess I know your secret identity now.'

'What're you gonna do with it?' Fenton asked.

'First, change back.'

Fenton stared, but nodded, and yelled, 'Blathering Blatherskite!'. Soon enough, instead of the meek accountant, Gizmoduck stood on the metal floor, balanced on his tyre 'What now?'

'Nothing changes. You're still Gizmoduck, protector of Duckburg and Scrooge McDuck.' He snorted. 'Beloved by millions.'

'And what about your secret identity?'

Darkwing growled. 'It stays secret. If you're as good as you say you are, you should be able to figure it out. If not, then no loss to you. Not that I needed the codewords, but it's useful. Just in case you go rogue again, for whatever reason. Saves on the sugar, anyway.' He thought for a few moments. 'What plan do you have for me if that happened?'

Gizmoduck shrugged. 'None, actually. You're not superpowered, so I thought normal tactics for mundane criminals would work.' Sensing the cold shoulder Darkwing was giving, he hastily added, 'After tonight, though, I'll have to do extra research, since if you ever went evil you'd be a huge threat.' That seemed to satiate that aspect of Darkwing's ego.

Gizmoduck then scanned the television waves, and caught one. 'Think the news is reporting.' He switched his monitor on, and Darkwing's back was bathed in light.

'Dan Gander here, reporting on an amazing discovery. It seems that the Friendly Outreach for Uniform Love, whose breakthrough procedures have dramatically affected the rogue elements of society, has instead been experimenting on unwilling subjects in an effort to brainwash the citizens of Saint Canard, and indeed the world!' the reporter gushed.

The screen showed Darkwing stepping down from the front of the building, carrying Gosalyn. 'The girl in his arms was identified in the company's internal files as the focus of their brainwashing experiments. A later press release said that she was taken into protective custody by the Midnight Mallard until her family could be reached. Authorities are ongoing, and emminent child behaviourist Dr Jeffrey Foxtail has been put in charge of therapy for the countless victims of the scheme.'

Darkwing smiled slightly at that, but didn't turn around. Gizmoduck did see him untense, and switched the set off.

'Go home, Gizmoduck. Go on and round up the victims, or whatever. Patrol Saint Canard a bit.'

Gizmoduck stood stunned for a few moments--Darkwing, handing off an actual patrol to him? 'Are you sure?' he asked. 'Usually you unwind by rounding up a street gang or two.'

'I have more important matters tonight.' He walked back to the bed, watching over Gosalyn.

Gizmoduck thought for a few moments, then shrugged. 'Allright,' he said, and flew off through a window into the night.

--

The next day, Launchpad walked into the living room from the kitchen. As he set a tray of brownies down, he heard a knock at the door. 'Coming!' he yelled, and whipped his oven mitts off before opening the door.

On the stoop were the Muddlefoots. 'Hey, Herb, Binkie! Long time no see!'

'Yeah, Launchpad,' Herb said, slapping him on the back. 'Sorry about the whole neighbourhood ostracization thing. Just thought we'd invite you to a welcome home bash! Now that all the charges are cleared, we're gonna celebrate!'

'That's right, dear,' Binkie said. 'Plus, Herb's got a new grill, and he's dying to try it out!'

'Say, where's Drake and Gosalyn?' Herb said.

'They're ... busy,' Launchpad said. 'But I'm in, sure!'

--

Gosalyn rose from the bed, sighing. She saw she was in the Tower, and hugged the doll she held to her, then looked at the foot of the bed. Darkwing had leaned there, and was sleeping, his hat slumped forward over his face.

She crept down the stairs, and went to where he kept his spare costumes. After a few adventures with him, she knew she should have a set of spares up here, too, and found herself holding up one of her jerseys. She stared at it for a few moments, then put it on.

As she stepped back from the changing room, she saw Darkwing walking down the steps. 'Heard you come down. Thought I should give you some time,' he said in reply.

She just nodded, holding her former outfit in her arms. 'Thanks, Dad,' she said, and sighed. 'What'll they do with me now?'

'The charges were dropped, and with them all the other court orders. Basically, it's back to normality.' He reached the ground level, and looked to her. 'How're you feeling, sweetie?'

She cringed at that, bringing a wince to Darkwing's face. 'I don't know. What're they doing with the other kids?'

'They're all getting cured. We can even get you in, make sure that everything's allright in there,' he answered, ruffling her hair a little. 'They say after a while, you should be back to normal. He was more interested in putting up mental blocks rather than true reprogramming.' He paused, but figured Gosalyn should know. 'He wanted folks to suffer while they were treated. I'm sorry he got you.'

'I know.'

Darkwing waited. Gosalyn stood there, staring at the clothes in her arms. 'Can I borrow the gas gun, Dad?'

Darkwing blinked at the request. 'My gas gun? Why?'

'Please.'

Darkwing handed it over. Gosalyn took it, and crammed the dress and shoes into the barrel, then aimed out the window, and fired. The outfit flew out into the night air, fluttering for a while. She then flicked a knob on the side, and fired again. This time an explosive round flew out, and detonated, reducing the frills to fragments.

'You know, Gos,' Darkwing said, 'you didn't need to do that.'

She then turned to look up at him, a questioning look in her eyes. Darkwing looked into them, and smiled, patting her head. 'Good shooting, slugger.'

She smiled, the first one he'd seen from her since before she was taken away. 'Thanks again, Dad.' She hugged him tightly, and he held her as well. 'I'll be OK,' she said after a few moments.


End file.
